


things only you know | camren au

by jaureguicabello5eva



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: 5h, AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Camren - Freeform, Drama & Romance, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Humor, Multi, fifthharmony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-04-21 19:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14291679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaureguicabello5eva/pseuds/jaureguicabello5eva
Summary: Plot/summary (kind of, not really):The heart remembers what the mind forgets is what they say, right? At least you hope so.Otherwise known as your very typical and very cliché amnesia fic (two-shot).





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: shoutout to the amzing, multi-talented [user: mndng] for the kick-ass title. read her stuff if you haven’t because they’re great obviously 
> 
> this is also my first time writing in second person and I honestly cannot gauge if it’s terrible so let me know how it is

\---

 

You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you let the night breeze wash over you, the cool wind spilling over your skin as you look out into the sprawling metropolis before your tired eyes. 

You haven’t slept much these last few nights, the reality that she’s coming back dawning closer and closer until it’s finally here, and your poor, wearied heart hasn’t stopped beating so erratically. Its rhythm getting lost with every memory that tries to fight its way through the seams of your mind.

The New York skyline has always been something that has given you the type of peace that you couldn’t ever fully understand if you tried. It’s why you chose your apartment (you try not to think about how you chose it with her), because the balcony gives you a breathtaking view that reminds you to ground yourself. Maybe it’s the way it makes you feel small, a reminder that a whole world goes on with or without your troubles. That everything is temporary. 

You know just how fleeting everything actually can be.

She’s back. You’ve known it was coming for a while. Dinah and Normani are both your friends and you knew, despite your ardent pleas, that Dinah would never not invite her to the wedding, amnesia be damned. You’d reached a compromise with your best friend, however, and you’ve come to an agreement (not without Dinah trying her best to convince you otherwise) that she can invite Lauren as long as everyone keeps mum about your past with her.

It’s the hardest decision you’ve ever made. Deciding that you wouldn’t actively pursue Lauren, that you wouldn’t try to remind her that Hey, I’m Camila. We were very much in love before you jumped in front of a bullet for me and forgot all about me. 

Her mother, Clara, had begrudgingly kept in contact with you in the past two years (twenty-five months and two weeks to be exact) if only to make sure you aren’t executing an elaborate plan from across the Atlantic of trying to remind Lauren of her past with you. Her mother had begged and cried and gone down a step from her self-righteousness for you to keep quiet and you couldn’t really do much but agree. Lauren doesn’t remember you. There’s no point. She does remember, however, her mother.

You know all about her relationship with her mom. They had been best friends, closer than any mother and daughter that you know until Lauren went off to college. Until Clara found out that Lauren had no intention of marrying her childhood best friend, who is conveniently the sole heir of one of the Jaureguis’ major partner companies. A marriage would have sealed the deal of the merger of the century. Lauren chose you over her inheritance. She chose you over her family. She chose you over her own mother. She chose you over and over and it tugged at your heart in the most agonizingly beautiful way.

Because as much as you saw the sincerity in her green eyes whenever she reassured you that she loved you more than anything else in the world, you also know how much it broke her heart to have such a strained relationship with her mother. She chose you, but you knew how much it hurt her.

And now, now is her chance for a new start with her mom and who are you to stand in the way when she doesn’t even remember you? You don’t have a claim on her anymore and that’s okay. You have to be okay with that. You know how much she wanted to repair her relationship with Clara and you’re finding it hard to take that chance away from her.

Especially now that she’s come back. Clara had told you that Lauren had spent the last few months trying to fill in the four-year gap in her memory and she’d convinced Clara to go back to New York in her pursuit of her old self. 

The bullet that had been lodged in her brain had given her nothing but minor memory problems at first. The doctors had deemed it too dangerous to try to take the bullet out and they had been content in leaving it in Lauren’s brain. That was, however, until it led to increasingly persistent seizures and blackouts. You saw how her memory problems also became more and more severe. When her family found a neurosurgeon in London that was brave (crazy) enough to try the surgery, Clara didn’t hesitate to fly Lauren over and have the procedure done immediately.

You learned that the surgery was relatively successful. There were huge risks of paralysis, speech impairment, permanent brain damage, life-threatening seizures – the list went on and in the end, Lauren came out mostly unscathed. The only major consequence was losing her memory of recent years, specifically her last four years – or as better described, her time with you. 

You tried to keep in touch while she was in London as much as you could but it wasn’t long before you found out about her memory loss. They told you the damage to her brain affected one type of memory the most, which means she remembers most things. Her implicit and procedural memory remain intact (she hasn’t forgotten how to drive) and the semantic part of her declarative memory is mostly unaffected (she can remember most general facts, like how the government is supposed to work). Her episodic memory, however, which is the type of memory that is in charge of personal facts, has been largely affected. 

You didn't believe it at first, convinced that it was one of Clara's many attempts to keep you apart. But then she sent you video diaries and therapy sessions of Lauren and you watched in agony as the love of your life struggled to remember anything about her life in the last few years. You felt your heart crack in your ribs and you knew then that you'd lost her.

You met as sophomores in college and it took a couple months of stubborn back and forth before you both got your heads out of your asses and finally got together. You’ve been together since and moved into an apartment right after graduation, living a full year of domestic bliss before the rug was pulled out under your feet.

Your friends don't know much about Lauren's life in London, just that she lost her recent memory and doesn't remember the last few years in the same way Lauren doesn't know much about her old life in New York. She knows she has friends there and knows about Dinah, Normani, Zayn, Niall, and Liam because she grew up with them and their parents worked together in the same business circle, but Clara of course, had been less than willing to let her know about the people she's met in college, namely you. She remembers them as her friends before college but doesn't quite remember the experiences she had with them while in college. But you discover soon enough that Lauren took the chance to go back when she got the wedding invitation and found out that an old friend had invited her to their wedding. You learned that she wanted to take the opportunity to learn as much as she can from the years missing in her head.

When Clara asked you to not say anything to Lauren regarding your past relationship, you wanted to scream at her. Tell her that Lauren deserves the truth. That you wouldn’t be part of her scheme to keep her daughter in the dark. But then you saw pictures. Pictures of Lauren looking the happiest she’s ever been with her mom while they were in London and you can’t help but think that maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you that your time with Lauren wasn’t meant to be forever, that this is her chance at a re-do. That you had been nothing but a mistake. 

So you let go. You figured you might as well get started on the whole process of moving on in case you might see her again. It’s two years later and you don’t think you’re anywhere near moving on but you figure that the universe hasn’t always been the kindest to you anyway. Giving you the best thing that has ever happened to you, only to take her away while leaving you with all the memories.

So you swallow hard and woman up. You can do this. You can face the love of your life who remembers nothing about you.

 

\-----

 

You can’t do this. 

You decide that the moment your feet touch the gravel path that leads up to the entrance of the private resort where Dinah and Normani's wedding is going to take place as you get out of the cab that's brought you here.

You're in Oahu because it wouldn't be a Norminah event if it wasn't extravagant and not even the breathtaking scenery that surrounded you on your way to this resort has taken any sort of edge from your body at the thought of seeing her again. You're going to actually see her and hear her voice and feel her presence after what seems like a lifetime and you don’t know if you could do it without your heart beating out of your chest or your breath leaving your lungs completely.

So you stand like a fool in front of the gigantic resort house while the employees patiently stand to the side, unsure of how they’re supposed to act. After welcoming you and taking your luggage to your room (because yes, you have your own room in this house slash mini-mansion), they’ve given up on trying to communicate with you when you couldn’t say anything intelligible beyond your name. 

You take a deep breath and run a hand through your hair, silently praying that it's not as bad as you think after that eleven-hour or so flight and make a move to open the door and actually let yourself in. You see the employees take a subtle breath of relief now that they've seen that you can, in fact, move on your own.

You enter the house and you’re greeted with an open foyer that’s brightly-lit by all the natural light being brought through by the glass walls that make up most of the place. Across from where you’re standing, you can see the other side of the house ends with a huge sliding door that opens to a wide outside porch, and beyond that, the beach is only a few yards away. 

You take in the serenity around you and try to use it as much as you can to calm the nerves you can feel buzzing inside you, your heart beating thunderously in your chest, almost drowning out the voices you can hear floating from the where you assume the living area is. Where everyone – including her – is undoubtedly catching up on everything they’ve missed since graduation.

These are the people closest to your heart. You’ve built quite the formidable circle of friends through your college years, and even though you never thought for a second you’d actually make any real friends, much less meet the love of your life while studying bioengineering, you’re forever grateful you’d met them and at the same time regretful that you hadn’t made as much effort in the last couple years in keeping in touch.

You’re the last of your group to arrive because you had done your best in delaying the inevitable, citing work and a busy schedule in your attempt to spend as little time as possible being in the same island as Lauren.

And as you walk into the living room, you hear the talking die down for all of two seconds before the room erupts in obnoxious (you’re really actually quite endeared, but you won’t ever say that aloud) cheers and variations of Well nice of you to join us and Aye, Cabello in the house! And Damn girl, did your booty get even bigger?

You’re lost in a sea of hugs and I’ve missed you much before you’re enveloped in a familiar, bone-crushing hug after seeing a blur of wild, curly, blonde hair rush towards you and you can’t help but smile as you return the enthusiastic embrace of your best friend.

She'd been there for you more than anyone else you know in the last couple years and you don't think you would have survived with your sanity (mostly) intact if it hadn't been for Dinah. You see a much more graceful and composed Normani come up to you and wrap you in a hug that's just as sincere and warm and you're almost overwhelmed with emotions as you're surrounded with the people you love most.

Then you see her and your world stops. 

You’re sure it actually stops in the second it takes for your eyes to meet hers and it feels like the weight of the last two years is crashing down on your entire being.

Nothing – no preparation, no warning – could have made you ready in seeing her again, in seeing those green eyes focus on you across a room full of people as if there isn't anyone else but the two of you.

You’re thankful Normani still has you in some sort of side-hug because you feel your knees giving way with every second that she has her eyes on you. 

You almost want to laugh out loud at how you ever thought you could genuinely see her again without your heart pulling you right back into the past, right back into how she made you feel every day that you were lucky enough to be with her.

It’s instantaneous and mind-numbingly slow all at the same time. The way your breath catches in the back of your throat, how you feel the blood running through your veins thrum loudly to the beat of your erratic heart, your entire body attuning itself to no one and nothing else but her. Like it’s never known anything else but her. 

She’s all-encompassing and the way she holds you captive is all-consuming and you don’t think you have a say in the way your heart jumps out of your chest, only to perch itself in the palm of her hands, making itself comfortable in the only place it recognizes as home. 

It feels as if everything and nothing is the same. She doesn’t look different in the slightest bit - the way soft lashes flutter over the most mesmerizing pair of green eyes you’ve ever seen, plump lips that curve in soft smiles, high cheeks that tinge in the slightest shade of pink whenever you called her beautiful, and soft, wavy dark hair that frames her delicate features in the most captivating way – she looks like no time has passed and she very well could be returning from work and you’re waiting for her at home, having cooked her favorite dish because you know she probably ate little to nothing during lunch, too consumed with her work to eat anything.

Except everything has changed. It’s been two years of her not remembering you, not knowing that you were supposed to be in love. Not having a single clue of how much of a hold she still has over your heart. Not knowing that she’d promised you forever but now you’re left with nothing but memories instead. 

It’s been two years of these memories – memories of how she woke you up with light kisses and bright green eyes, tender smiles and reverent touches. Memories of her dealing with every single breakdown you had in college. Memories of you and her cuddling all night and just talking about everything and nothing at all until the rays of the sunrise peeked through the blinds of your bedroom window. Memories of her making you pancakes at two in the morning for no other reason than you wanted some and she loves you. Loved you. Memories of her fighting for you.

Memories of her loving you.

You used to share all these memories with her, but now you’re left to carry all of it by yourself and each memory feels like a burden that’s been weighing down on your heart until it’s been crushed into nothing but shattered pieces and you really wish you could forget too. 

You wish you could forget how her touch had the ability to calm you like sunshine after a rainy day. How her lips on your skin feel like tiny sparks that alight your nerves – your entire being – until it’s spread through your chest like wildfire. How her eyes could see through your smile and the façade you put up for everyone else. How she can read you like a book, know every word that makes up every part of your mind that you hadn’t even read yourself. How she used to know you like no one else before and now you’re not sure she’s even gotten the chance to learn your name yet.

Have they talked to you at all in the few days they’ve been here? 

You find out the answer to your question when Dinah’s voice breaks your staring contest and it shatters through the moment like lightning flashing through the sky. You blink hard and fast and try your best not to get lost in those damned green eyes as you try to compose yourself, trying hard not to give too much thought about how she looked at you. How she stared at you with confusion marring her beautiful features yet at the same time, it was like she was figuring you out. Almost like she was curious. You tell yourself it’s your imagination playing tricks on your poor, hopeless romantic of a heart because hope is a luxury you can’t afford right now.

“And this is Camila,” Dinah’s voice brings you back to reality and her next words almost make your heart stop. You may need to see a doctor after this whole thing is over because your heart can only skip so many beats before it starts to just give up on you. “She was your best friend.”

Of course. You should have known Dinah wouldn’t completely let S.S. Camren go. She’d been instrumental in getting the two of you together when you and Lauren had been too stupid to do something about your feelings (see: it was mostly you that was stupid. You had genuinely convinced yourself that there was no way Lauren Jauregui, heir of the biggest global shipping company in the world, collegiate superstar of like a million different sports, and the same Lauren that has girls and guys constantly fawning over her, had any real interest in you, Camila Cabello, an essential nobody in your gigantic university).

Dinah was there to put you two together and you really should have expected that she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She’d sink with this ship long before she surrenders to something as trivial as amnesia. You shouldn’t have been so silly.

So here she is, smirking like the goddamn Cheshire Cat while you try to subtly glare at her for trying to exploit loopholes in your agreement, while you swallow hard and hope Lauren can’t see the way your pulse must be thrumming against your skin with how hard your heart is beating in your chest. You’re sure that your ribs are actually starting to bruise. It’s been 2.52 seconds of being in the same room as Lauren and you’re ready for the emergency room. You hope you can make it out of this wedding alive.

So they haven’t told Lauren that you used to be in love, but they’d settled with you being her “best friend” apparently, and knowing that Lauren had been in pursuit of trying to fill in her memory loss, you know you’re going to have to pretend to help Lauren remember her past without telling her your actual role in her life – or at least, what your role used to be. Because everything that has to do with you and Lauren is in the past. You have to remind yourself this fact, lest you do something you’re not prepared to face. At least it won’t be hard to explain why you and Lauren were always next to each other in all of your group photos – if she ever came across one. You were “best friends” after all.

“Camila,” your name falls from her lips with the same sweetness it used to and it knocks the air right out of your chest, rips the strength from your knees and you wonder if everything would be easier if you just succumbed to it all and passed out right there. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” her brows furrow in the most adorable way, and lightly chuckles through her next words. “Again. I’ve heard so much about you.”

You’re not sure if you want to strangle your friends or give your first born child for all of them to share.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak out despite everything that seems to be overwhelming you at the moment. It’s like every cell, every fiber, every muscle in your body are all aching to reach out to her and take her in your arms, feel the warmth you know she probably still has and just bask in all of Lauren like you always used to do whenever everything felt like it was closing in on you. She had the uncanny ability to calm your soul with a single touch, ease your mind with a few soft words, and lull you into a sense of peace with her soothing voice. You used to lie your head on her chest and feel the steady rhythm of her heart beating against you, using it as your own personal reminder that no matter what happens, Lauren will always be the one thing in your life that’s steady.

At least, that’s what it used to be.

She reaches her hand out for a handshake and you want to laugh at the way her face contorts in the subtlest of ways, as if she was berating herself for doing something so formal, but you want to ease her worries and you don’t hesitate to take her hand in yours.

You regret it immediately.

Her touch ignites sparks that run from the tips of your fingers and spread through your veins, heating up your entire being and making you feel the most alive you’ve felt in the last couple years. Her touch burns you in the most beautiful way until you’re nothing but embers of the memories you used to share, floating helplessly through the air and you briefly think that you’d gladly be reduced to ashes if it means you get to bask in that touch. 

It burns because you remember when that touch was purposeful, running along your skin with utmost reverence, lighting up your heated skin as she had her way with your body. You remember when that touch was gentle and warm, comforting you in the most delicate way, holding your seams together when you felt like everything was falling apart.

You wonder what’s going through her mind while yours is bombarded with memories of what used to be.

Your moment is broken for the second time when Harry clears his throat and you pull your hand away, immediately running it through your locks because you can’t trust yourself not to reach out again. She seems to come out of her own daze and shoots you a small smile before the attention is brought back to Hailee, who – bless her heart – starts telling the whole group about her plan of fulfilling her dream of hooking up with someone at a wedding. You briefly note the frown on Niall’s face at the mention of said plan and you wonder how long it’ll take for the two idiots to realize they’re in love.

The rest of the day goes on without too much trouble for your heart. You think you'd done a good job of keeping your composure while being in the same room as Lauren. You commend yourself when you didn't go full on heart-eyes whenever she let out a laugh or did that smile that always manages to take your breath away, even when it wasn't directed at you, but the look on Dinah's face and the subtle shake of Normani's head in your direction tells you that you might not have been as subtle as you think.

You find out that your closest college friends, Lauren included, are all staying in this gigantic mansion resort house thing, while Normani and Dinah are staying in two different houses within the same private resort with their respective families, and the rest of the guests are housed in a nearby hotel.

You hope and pray that your room is on the opposite side of the house from Lauren’s, but because the universe is out to get you – or really, your friends are massive dicks – you also discover that they’ve managed to assign the bedrooms so that yours is not only right next to Lauren’s at the end of the hall in the second floor, you’re also sharing a bathroom with her.

You need a cigarette and you don’t even smoke.

 

 

A/N: flashback to the college years

 

You sigh as you set your bag on the designated table in the learning center of the library and pull your notes and necessary textbooks out, neatly laying them over the surface and picking up a pen to twirl around your fingers as you wait for the person you’re tutoring today.

It’s the first semester of your sophomore year and you’re ready for the challenge ahead. You’d successfully survived your first year, passing all the fundamental “weed-out” classes (named as such for challenging introductory science courses that weed out students who aren’t really meant for the hard sciences) of your engineering major with a biological sciences track and managing to do so with little to no scandal to your name, which is a lot more you can say than some of the people on your dorm floor.

You’re tutoring for a class you aced in your very first semester and although you’d like to tutor a slightly more challenging class, you found out that they reserve those spots for the upperclassmen so here you are, paying your dues until you can move up the academic ladder.

The person is, of course, late and you wonder why someone would waste your time like this as you scowl at the entrance of the center, wondering who it could be. There’s an online sign up for available spots for tutoring and all you know is that somebody has registered for your slot. They simply get directed to your table, which is labeled with a number, but you essentially don’t know what to expect. It’s like a blind date. An academic blind date. You really need to get out more.

You wait a couple more minutes until your attention is drawn to the door once more and you see no other than Lauren Jauregui walking in with her leather jacket and combat boots and messy hair and green eyes, and really, who does she fucking think she is walking in like she’s in a goddamn runway. You silently pray for the poor soul that has to tutor her until you see her green eyes scan the room, land on your table, and promptly start walking towards you.

The poor soul is you. Of course. You watch her eye you up and down and a smirk spreads across those plump lips as she seems to glide towards you. Honestly, it’s like everything you’ve ever heard about this girl is true. And you’ve heard plenty.

Everyone knows Lauren Jauregui. Soccer slash softball star. Mega-rich daughter of the world's largest shipping company and walks around with the world at the tip of her fingers. You're pretty sure her goal is to sleep through all the 10s in the university if you're going by the stories you've heard. It seems like everywhere you go, some girl, some very very attractive girl who could probably get anyone they wanted, is crying over a broken heart or condemning Lauren to hell for sleeping with them only to never call them back. She beds them and breaks their hearts. She's even slept with your friend Sarah, who swore off women for the longest time after the disaster that was Lauren Jauregui.

She’s like the girl version of John Tucker. Honestly, you’re convinced John Tucker is the male version of Lauren Jauregui. Those fuckboy movies you’ve seen? All based on Lauren if anyone asks you.

And now, of course, you have to deal with her. Not that she'd definitely want to sleep with you. Her type is more that of a supermodel than the average bioengineering major.

“Hey, princess,” she greets you in a husky tone you did not expect, which really, you should have just assumed that her voice would be sexy as hell too. It only makes sense to complete the whole package. 

You groan internally as you force a smile you know probably looks more like a grimace. “Hi, I’m Camila and I guess I’ll be your tutor this semester.”

"Well, aren't I lucky?" You really want to do something to wipe that stupid smirk off but you need this job.

"Okay, Lauren is it?" You ignore the rise of her eyebrow at you knowing her name because you know she's used to it. She must know people know who she is. “Look, this is important to me and I’d really appreciate it if you took this seriously.”

Her face looks serious for a second as she mulls over your words and a smile forms on her lips that you think could definitely pass for genuine. “Sure, yeah of course. I do need to pass this class,” she gives you an easy shrug and you sigh at how much harder you thought that was going to be.

You wonder why she's in this class anyway. This fundamentals of biology class is an entry course that's required for science majors mostly and you know Lauren is majoring in business to prepare for her eventual taking over of their family's business. You find out the answer to that question when she tells you she registered too late and the basic science class that most non-science majors take to fulfill their science requirement had been filled up by the time she registered. So now she's stuck with a more challenging science course and she explains that she really needed to get her general education requirements out of the way before she can get started on her upper-level business courses.

The next few weeks of tutoring Lauren turns out to be quite enjoyable, to your utter chagrin. She's incredibly charming without trying. You'd expected the flirting. You figured she was the type to flirt with anyone with a heartbeat and yet what you didn't expect was how effective it was. It wasn’t obnoxious or overly sexual like you’d assumed it was going to be. It was subtle and sweet and even genuine at times.

She’d compliment you about your smile in your most unguarded moments and then look at you with those stupidly green eyes like she’d actually meant it. She’d bring snacks to the tutoring sessions and she’d mastered the very specific way you like your coffee after one time of you casually mentioning it. She even walks you to your dorm whenever your sessions are scheduled at night and it lasts longer than you both expected.

She’s also very smart. You have long conversations about the state of the world and you see the compassion and fire in her eyes, hear the sincerity in her voice when she talks about human affairs and how we should be doing better, working harder as people living on the same planet instead of constantly tearing each other apart.

She also has no problem understanding the material at all despite her saying she hates science at least twice every tutoring session. You wonder why she’s continuing to avail your services after she shows you the third major exam that she had aced, presenting it to you like it’s a prize as she smiles widely, cheeks bunched up and eyes twinkling before she proceeds to take you up into the nicest hug you’ve ever gotten. Because you’re at this point in your relationship. You give each other hugs and smile at one another when you see each other on campus.

You’re pretty sure you’re friends. Sarah would be so disappointed with you if she ever found out.

She's also introduced you to her closest friends, Dinah, Normani, Zayn, Niall, and Liam. And you find out that even though they're all filthy rich as well and have inheritances that could have them set for three lifetimes, that they don't embody the rich kid stereotype. Dinah and Normani are high school sweethearts and you learn that Zayn and Lauren are very close. They're like bromance close. It's cute really, but you'd never say that to her in person. You have a feeling she doesn't take to being called cute very well, what with her badass reputation she has to uphold.

You somehow have managed to introduce your own friends, Ally, Hailee, and Harry and you’ve formed quite the circle of friends. Everyone gets along surprisingly well despite coming from different backgrounds and you think that tutoring Lauren Jauregui might not have been the worst thing to ever happen to you.

 

\---

 

The thing about spending a lot of time with Lauren is that she's very pretty. And smart. And honestly, an actual cinnamon roll and you can feel yourself falling, which – is very problematic for various reasons. You've both given up on using the tutoring sessions as a very thin-veiled excuse to be together and have since spent time together just for the sake of hanging out.

You know you should really stop this whole falling thing because it can only end badly for you. She’s Lauren fucking Jauregui after all. You’re 87 percent sure she doesn’t do relationships and you’re even more sure that she wouldn’t ever like you like that and you really need to get a hold of your feelings before you make it weird and lose a pretty good friend.

“Hey, Camz,” she comes up to you bright and happy and you lose yourself in the green of her eyes as she casually drapes an arm over your shoulder as you both walk to – you’ve forgotten where you’re walking to. You tend to lose all sense of things when Lauren’s presence is all-encompassing and you’re completely at her mercy.

“Hey, Laur,” you say with a smile of your own and you hope it doesn’t look as lovesick as it feels.

“You wanna go out tonight?” There’s a subtle tremor in her voice, a quick dent in the confidence that always surrounds her, that you wouldn’t have noticed had you not been so close to her and if you weren’t so – you know – completely in tune and smitten with everything that is Lauren. Which makes you wonder because, why is she nervous? You go out all the time.

“Sure,” you say with an easy shrug and a smile you hope is comforting. “Let me put it in the group chat to see if anyone can join us.”

You’re in the middle of pulling your phone out when Lauren’s voice stops you and your breath hitches at the back of your throat.

“I was kinda hoping it’d just be the two of us?” she asks unsurely and she’s taken the hand that’s not around your shoulders to mess with her hair and now you’re sure that she’s nervous. “I just feel like we haven’t had much time together without everyone being there you know?”

“Uh sure, okay,” you agree because she’s right. You used to spend a lot of time just the two of you. And you love your friends, you really do, but you do miss having Lauren all to yourself.

 

\---

 

“That’s what we’re using?” you ask incredulously as you stand on the curb with your arms crossed against your chest with zero plans of moving because if Lauren thinks you’re riding on that two-wheeled death trap, then she’s absolutely lost her mind. She owns like, at least four other cars. Why she chooses to risk her life like this, you don’t think you’ll ever understand.

A smile forms on her lips that is simultaneously infuriating and endearing as she stands up straight from where she was leaning on her motorcycle. “Yes, come on. Stop being such a big baby,” she says teasingly as she reaches out for her leather jacket, which was draped across the seat.

And oh god she’s putting the leather jacket on. You’re helpless against the leather jacket. You can feel your resolve crumbling as she approaches you with her spare helmet, charming smile on full display. “Come on, princess,” she smirks as she puts the helmet on your head, ignoring your poor attempt at a scowl because you really can’t be mad at a smiling Lauren. 

She gently brushes your hair to the side as she secures the helmet strap around your head, winking at you for good measure and she really doesn’t even have to try hard for you to follow. You watch helplessly as she swings a strong leg over her bike, secures her own helmet, straps her backpack to her front, and reaches out a hand for you.

You hesitate only for a second before taking her hand and letting her help you get on the motorcycle, wrapping your arms around her midsection loosely before you feel more than hear her laugh.

“What?” you ask in your best attempt at trying to seem annoyed.

“You’re gonna want to hold on tighter, baby,” she says as she turns her head slightly and you just know she's smirking behind that stupid shield. Her words barrel right through you and wrap around the pit of your stomach as you don't think you'll ever get used to her calling you things like "princess" and "baby." 

“Whatever,” you mutter to yourself.

“Okay,” she shrugs as she leans forward in the slightest, lightly revving the engine and slowly positioning the motorbike to get ready to go. “Suit yourself.”

You yelp and instinctively hold onto her tighter as she speeds down the road, her laugh filling the air around you and you’d totally smack her if you weren’t holding on for dear life.

 

You make it to the beach with all your limbs intact and as you struggle to fix your helmet hair, you watch in awe as Lauren disembarks the bike, removes her helmet and shakes – yeah she actually shakes her hair out like she’s in a freaking movie or something – her hair out flawlessly, her dark, wavy hair flowing in the wind, her scent easily mingling with the sea breeze and your heart is beating so hard in your chest you wonder if it’ll manage to completely jump out and hand itself to Lauren.

You pretend it hasn’t already done that and that you have some control over your heart.

She leads you to a part of the beach you haven’t seen before and takes your hand in hers and you have to pretend like her touch isn’t causing a pandemonium inside your chest, a beautiful kind of chaos erupting from the depths of your poor, smitten heart.

You come across a lighthouse and you don’t even question it when she casually pulls out a set of keys that open the humongous doors at the base of the lighthouse, replaces the keys into her backpack and takes your hand once again, giving you a cheeky smile when you raise your eyebrow at her.

You’re sitting at the top of the lighthouse, out on the surrounding balcony that faces the ocean and your legs are dangling haphazardly through the railing while you sit side by side with Lauren, drowning in the way she smiles at you, in the way that the setting sun is painting wonderful colors on her features and highlighting her mesmerizing eyes in a way that keeps taking your breath away.

You wonder if your heart will ever beat at a normal pace whenever she’s around.

It feels like a date. You know that it isn’t, but that doesn’t stop your stomach from fluttering or your cheeks from reddening whenever she’d focus those eyes on you. Whenever she lets your name roll off her tongue in a way that makes you question whether she meant for this to be as platonic as you’ve assumed.

You find out that the backpack she brought contains the best sandwiches you’ve ever had as well as a Bluetooth speaker where she plays for you her favorite songs, talks about her favorite albums, who her greatest inspirations are, all while asking you about yours, engaging you in the type of conversation that you can’t help but open up.

You don’t know what it is about Lauren but you tell her things you’d never even told Hailee and she’s been your best friend since second grade. She listens like your words are the air she needs to breathe, absorbing them with rapt attention and mulling them over in her own mind before telling you just what you needed to hear. She has the ability to always know what to say and you can’t even remember how you were living your life before Lauren.

She drives you back that night, bringing you back to your door safe and sound and as you both stand awkwardly at your door, she leans forward and takes you in a hug that says she doesn’t want to let go. You relish in it, bask in the warmth of her arms, and wonders whether the thundering sound in your chest is coming from yours or hers as you both stay in the safe embrace where you don’t have to confront your true feelings.

 

\---

 

“So when are you going to, like, properly date?” Dinah’s voice breaks your concentration as you watch the puck slide through the table and go into your goal.

“Oh dammit, Cheech! Stop distracting me with your words,” you exclaim as you watch her taunt you with her winning dance, which really, isn’t much of a dance as it is her just sticking her tongue out at you while shaking her hips.

It’s almost midnight and you’re spending your time in the game room on the third floor of your Commons Building because Dinah thought this would be a good idea to spend the time while she waits to pick Normani up from the airport, whose flight lands at an ungodly two in the morning.

“Anyway,” she says as she feigns fixing her shirt while leaning her hands on the table, watching you with curious eyes. “So when are you and Lauser going to date for real?”

“Wh-what?” You squeak out as you try to be as convincing as possible when you let out your next words. “Why would we – why would we date? We’re friends!” You scoff out and you think you should’ve taken an acting class or two as an elective because Dinah is barely containing her laughter at your failed attempt to be nonchalant.

“Come on, Chanch. What’s taking you gays so long?”

“She doesn’t like me like that, okay?” You let out with more bite than you wanted.

“Oh please,” your friend dismisses your words easily. “I know Lauser. She looks at you differently.”

“Really? Do tell please,” you say with a kinked eyebrow as you cross your arms across your chest and match her stance across the table.

“I mean we know how she is,” Dinah says with a vague gesture in the air that you think is supposed to somehow refer to the many “friends” Lauren has over as her reputation would show. “But with you, it’s different. She doesn’t look at you like she wants to bang you.” She scrunches her nose and then shakes her head. “Well, actually, yes she does,” she corrects herself and you try to will the blush you can feel creeping up on your neck at her words. “But,” she says as she holds a finger out, as if you’d ever think about interrupting the one and only, Dinah Jane Hansen. “She also looks at you with, like, massive heart-eyes. Like she wants to get in your pants, but also make you breakfast in bed the next morning, you know?”

Okay, now you’re sure your cheeks are red because you can’t help but picture Lauren in nothing but an oversized shirt approaching your bed, the morning light bathing the crumpled sheets, with a tray of your favorite breakfast foods and giving you a soft smile that never fails to make your heart jump out from your chest. You’d probably forego the breakfast foods and insist on having her instead if that ever happened.

“You’re insane, Dinah,” you manage to say after you shake yourself out of your very inappropriate thoughts. “Lauren would never like me like that. You’ve seen her type and besides,” it’s your turn to hold up a finger when you see her about to interrupt you. “I mean it’s Lauren,” you scoff as if it should be obvious. “She doesn’t do relationships. She’d sleep with a pole if it had a skirt on it.”

And wow, you regret it as soon as the words fall out of your mouth. Dinah looks at you like you’ve just stepped on a kitten and shakes her head disapprovingly. You want to defend yourself, tell her that these are the things you tell yourself, the things you have to tell yourself as an attempt to stop yourself from spiraling down into the abyss of falling in love with Lauren Jauregui. You can’t risk your heart like this, is what you try to say to yourself. You pretend that it isn’t too late.

“You know what I mean,” you say in a less judgmental tone.

“No I don’t, Chanch,” Dinah tuts sadly. “I thought you knew Lauren better than.”

“Look, I just – ” you sigh because she’s right. Lauren has never given you any reason to not trust her and you should know better than to believe the rumors especially after getting to know her. You haven’t even seen her talk to a girl outside of your group of friends since meeting her. “I’m just protecting myself, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” you say dejectedly and Dinah comes over to your side of the table and puts an arm around you while looking at you like you’re missing something right in front your face. 

“I get that, Chanch. I do,” she tells you softly. “I just don’t want you to miss out on something great because you’re scared.”

 

\---

 

You haven’t seen or talked to Lauren in three point five days and you’re pretty sure she’s ignoring you. You’re not sure what you’ve done but you want to fix it before it gets out of hand because you don’t know how many more mornings you can go through without her smiling face and your favorite coffee in hand as she walks you to your first class of the day, waking up at an ungodly hour just so she can be with you even if her classes don’t start till midday.

Normani has an unreadable expression on her face when she lets you in the apartment that she shares with Lauren. She merely tells you that the green-eyed girl is in her room before retreating to her own room and you have to take a calming breath because she can be really intimidating when she wants to be.

You knock hesitantly on Lauren’s door and when you hear a faint Come in, you let yourself in, preparing to grovel and beg and do whatever it is to fix whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into.

You see Lauren packing up a suitcase and the duffel bag she uses when she has a game out of state and you hate that she’s leaving for a game and you didn’t even know because you hadn’t seen her in three point five days.

“Hey,” you say meekly as you stand by the door.

Lauren’s head snaps up from her packing at the sound of your voice and you watch her expression harden before she resumes her packing. It’s unnerving because you’ve never been on the receiving end of that expression before and now you know that you’ve truly fucked up on something.

“Are we – is everything alright?” you ask as you watch her barely pay any attention to you.

“Yup, just packing for my game this weekend.”

“Lauren, come on.”

“What, Camila,” she says and her voice is cold and her tone harsh and it slams against you in a way that makes it hard to breathe. “I have to catch the team bus, so I’m a little busy, can we do this some other time?”

“Do what? I’m not even sure what’s-”

“I mean don’t you have better places to be than be here right now?” She’s abandoned her bag in favor of turning towards you and giving you all her attention. “I mean I’m kind of in a rush. I have to pack, catch the bus, and you know,” she shrugs and lets out a self-deprecating laugh before letting out her next words. “Gotta fuck the next pole in a skirt that I see.”

The words feel like a stab in your heart and you watch briefly as sadness washes over her cloudy green eyes.

“Laur-”

“No, you know what, Camila,” she cuts you off and her voice is steely with just a hint of a crack beneath it. “I know what people say about me and that’s fine. Really. Because they don’t know who I am. I expect that kind of thing from people that don’t know me,” she keeps her gaze on you even as you watch her eyes fill with unshed tears. “I thought you knew me better than to think I slept with everyone and everything in sight without regard for anyone but myself.”

"Laur, I – I'm sorry, I was just – I panicked and I didn't-" You know you're not making sense. You want to say so many things and the words are getting jumbled on your tongue and your heart is pounding too loudly in your ears for you to hear your own thoughts and you wish you could tell her you only said those things to help yourself get over her. That you didn't mean it, but you needed to convince yourself that the two of you could never happen.

“I went to the game room a few days ago because Dinah said you were there with her. I was going to surprise you and invite you to my tournament this weekend in Boston because I know you’ve wanted to go for a while and I know you’ve been studying hard for finals and I thought you deserved a break, you know?” Her voice cracks at the end of her sentence and you hear the same thing happening within your chest. “So imagine my surprise when I hear somebody I consider my best friend talk about me like that.”

“Lauren please, let me explain.” Your voice is desperate and you don’t even care at this point that you can feel hot tears streaming down your face.

She shakes her head and gathers her bags together, throwing on that leather jacket you love so much before carrying her things to the door while you follow her helplessly.

“And for the record,” she says as turns to you one last time. “Your friend Sarah was the one who came onto me. I told her I wasn’t looking for a relationship and she was the one that insisted it was just going to be sex. Then she had the nerve to spread rumors about me when I didn’t call the next day.” 

With that, she clenches her jaw and looks away from you as if the mere sight of you is bringing her pain and leaves through the door, leaving you with your heart shattered in your chest.

 

A/N: end of flashback (for now)

 

 

You breathe in the night air while you lean your forearms against the railing, enjoying the way the serenity descends onto you in the same way your comfort blanket did when you were a child seeking solace from the thunderstorm outside. You're glad your room has its own balcony because it's providing you the much-needed privacy and quiet for you to gather your thoughts.

You didn’t think today went too bad, considering you hadn’t seen Lauren in two years and you’re still very much in love with her even though she doesn’t know you anymore. You think you’re doing quite well. You hadn’t let out any ill-timed declarations of love and you hadn’t murdered your meddling friends, so you take it all as a victory.

You take this time to yourself to calm your heart, which hasn’t stopped beating erratically since seeing Lauren and you hope that you have the strength to make it through this week.

You’re about to go back inside when you hear the door slide behind you and you’re reminded that not only do you share a bathroom with Lauren, you share the balcony with her too.

"Hey, princess," her voice rips right through you, taking you back to when you first met her and her words roll out of her mouth and run through the dip of your spine, coiling at the base of your stomach and making you feel like you're back in time.

“Wh-what?” You barely manage to let your words out as you turn to face her and you have to tell yourself not to reach out and touch her because she looks as beautiful as ever under the moonlight. Her alabaster skin glows with a soft radiance and her hair is in its messy-but-still-somehow-looks-good natural waves and her eyes are as bright as ever. Nothing has changed and yet you have to remind yourself, that this is a different Lauren. This is a Lauren that doesn’t know she has your heart.

“Oh uh,” she brings a hand to the back of her neck like she’s embarrassed and brings it back down to gesture to the print on your shirt. You look down and you see a crown emblem on its front. Oh. “I just thought because – your um – your shirt,” she chuckles nervously. “Sorry, that probably was weird,” she scrunches her nose at herself and you barely resist the urge to smoothen the lines that form on her face at the action.

“Oh yeah no, it’s okay.” You try to ease her worries with a small smile and she takes it in gratitude.

She moves to stand next to you and leans her own arms against the railing, bright eyes fixed on the ocean waves glinting under the shine of the moon and you try not to get lost in everything that is Lauren.

“You know, you can ask me whatever you want,” she says as she turns her head slightly to face you, a small smile forming on her lips. “Or say whatever is on your mind.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs before looking out into the ocean once more. “I don’t know, it’s just that – it seems like everyone is kind of tiptoeing around me? Like I’m glass that’s going to break or something,” she tries to hide the concern in her voice behind a small laugh. “I came back for the truth and I’m prepared to hear whatever. I’ll take what I can get at this point.”

Oh.

Your heart is thundering in your chest and you want to just blurt it out. Tell her who you really are – were – in her life before she forgot about you. There’s nothing more in this world you want than to remind her what you were supposed to be to one another. 

But telling her isn’t going to bring her memory back. She’s not going to magically remember she was supposed to be in love with you. All it would bring back is her strained relationship with her mother and you don’t think you could stand in the way of their relationship twice in a lifetime.

So you take a breath and you try to steady your voice when you speak, hoping that she can’t hear the small tremor in your tone. “Well, you can trust me.” The words feel like razors coming up your throat as they fall from your lips, cutting any chances you might have had in getting Lauren back. “I won’t hold anything back from you and whatever it is you want to know about your past, I’ll tell you as best as I can.”

The way she focuses her eyes on you, like she’s trying to look into your soul, picking your words apart for the lie that they are, you almost want to back down and end this charade once and for all. But then she gives you a smile, one that you haven’t seen in a while, the kind she gives you when she wants to calm you down, ease your mind, and steady your heart – one that says she trusts you. 

And you suddenly wish that it was you who forgot how breathtaking that smile was.

 

\---

 

Your friends are massive dicks.

You’ve known this for a while and you should have known they were going to pull something like this out of their asses and put you in a situation where you’ll be at Lauren’s mercy.

Because Dinah and Normani’s wedding isn’t exactly traditional and they share the same group of friends, they essentially have the same entourage – which is basically just your group of friends divided into two groups so that Dinah has half of your friends on her “side” and the other half goes on Normani’s. 

They’ve been planning this for months and so you know you were supposed to be paired up with Harry. He was the one that’s supposed to be rehearsing with you to walk down the aisle and do all that jazz because they’d known beforehand that his boyfriend, Louis, wouldn’t be able to make it to the wedding. There was a scheduled conference or whatever in the same week or something.

So you’re a little confused when you walk into rehearsal and Louis comes barging right through the group of people mingling about, and promptly envelopes you in a tight hug while simultaneously complaining about his delayed flight, all while you’re wondering how and why he’s here at all.

“Oh yeah, Camila,” Harry pipes up from behind Louis with a smug-looking smirk. “We forgot to tell you but Louis can make it after all.” You don’t fucking say. “And so he’ll be my partner,” he says gleefully. Which is okay. You’re fine. You don’t actually have to be part of the entourage. You know you don’t mean any less to Dinah or Normani if you’re relegated to just a common guest. Less responsibility for you and more time to pine for Lauren.

Everyone already has partners. Zayn is with his girlfriend, Gigi. Ally and Liam are paired up. Niall and Hailee are (of course) partners (you’re still wondering when that is finally going to happen), and now, Harry and Louis.

But then, of course, your friends had actually already thought this out. In fact, you're 98 percent sure this was the plan all along.

“Oh but you can still be a part of the entourage, Camila.”

“Yeah, we just need to find you a partner.”

“I wonder who it could be.”

You wonder if you’ve watched enough crime shows to get away with actual murder.

"Oh, Lauren!"

Yeah, now would be the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

You watch as she snaps her head up from her phone where she'd been standing to the side waiting for rehearsals to begin. She's not part of the entourage because no one really knew if she would even be able to make it, or if she'd want to go to a wedding of people she knew before college but don't quite remember spending time within the last four years before she lost her memory.

“You can be Camila’s partner!” You love your friends, you swear you do, but it’s in moments like this that you want to smack all of them across their stupid, smirking faces.

“Um well – uh,” you watch as Lauren gets flustered with all the attention on her, the wedding planner watching her like a hawk.

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to add another pair. Your entourage is relatively small compared to the size of the rest of the wedding," said wedding planner pipes up with her unwanted opinion.

“Well then it’s settled,” Harry claps his hand together like he’s come up with the brightest idea in the world. “It’s up to Lauren now. Do you mind being part of the entourage?” Up to Lauren?! Up to her?! What about you? What if you don’t want to be subjected to the kind of torture where the love of your life is so close to you, but you can’t do anything about it. It’s all a lie, you know you’d jump at the opportunity to be close to Lauren no matter how much it might hurt.

“Uh well,” her cheeks flush a darker shade of red and green eyes find your own, as if asking you if you were okay with it and you honestly want to laugh. You want to laugh at the thought that you might not want to be paired up with her because if it were up to you, you’d take Lauren and march her right up the altar and marry her right there and then, if it weren’t for the small problem that she doesn’t exactly remember you. It’s not as if you had been planning to do just that very thing the few weeks leading up to the incident. You try not to think about the ring still hidden in your apartment. “If Camila’s alright with it, I don’t mind.”

“Sure,” you shrug casually and you hope you didn’t sound as excited as you feel.

“Awesome!” Harry exclaims and if he claps his hands together one more time, you swear you’re actually going to go up to him and smack him in the head.

Your friends are massive dicks, but you actually love them.

 

\----


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: this might be shitty but I wanted to get this out already so here ya go

Rehearsals don’t go too terribly. The key word being _too._

 

Your heart keeps beating against your chest like it has no regard for you or your attempt at trying to keep it together around Lauren. You only trip walking down the aisle, like, a total of three times (it’s actually probably closer to seven, but you need to convince yourself that you have some control over your life so you’re going with three).

 

Honestly, it’s walking down the aisle. One foot in front of the other. It’s a task you do on a daily basis without having to really think about it so in theory, it should be a really simple task.

 

Except that you have to link arms with Lauren for the ceremony and you’re finding it hard to breathe because you haven’t gotten to be this close to Lauren since the day she left you at the airport with promises of coming back. The touch of her skin is sending your body ablaze and your insides are in absolute chaos. She smells the same and that’s probably weird to think about, but it takes you back to all the times you took comfort in everything that is Lauren.

 

She looks ethereal under the Hawaiian sun and her dark waves are fluttering with the light breeze and her sun-kissed skin is glowing in the most mesmerizing way and you know that you’ll always be in love.

 

You’ll always be in love with the way she’s beautiful without trying. You’ll always be in love with the way she carries herself with unbelievable grace. In the way the that she easily holds your heart, your mind, your soul, like it never belonged to you in the first place.

 

The way she looks at you is painfully similar to how she always _used_ to look at you – like she couldn’t believe that she got to call you hers, that you said _yes_ even after everything. She’s all soft smiles and bright green eyes and you want to kiss her and run away from her all at the same time.

 

How can it seem like nothing has changed when you _know_ nothing is really the same?

 

And then there’s the unfortunate fact that you can’t help but picture the two of you walking down the aisle at a different time. When you’re both wearing white dresses and your family and friends are watching you two with tenderness in their eyes and you’re wiping tear stains from each other’s cheeks before the ceremony has even started. A time when you’re exchanging vows to one another like you’ve always dreamed of.

 

It all seems so natural and you have to keep reminding yourself that that’s no longer in the cards for you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

\-------------------------------------------------- 

**A/N: flashback**

 

**\----------------------------------------------**

You’re sitting in the rain while the crowd around you cheers as if you all aren’t being subjected to violent gusts of wind and cold rain whipping around in you in every direction.

 

To be fair, everyone else seemed to be quite prepared for the weather – with their raincoats and windbreakers, while you have to wrap your arms around yourself as you suffer through it all in your ripped jeans and light shirt. You think that she's worth sitting in the cold rain for hours. That you couldn't find it in yourself to wait a whole weekend before you set things right with Lauren.

 

You look ahead and you can’t help but smile at the sight in front of you, despite the cold chill running through you.

 

Her once-pristine white jersey is covered in mud, there are scratches littering her legs from all the times she’s been tackled -  she’s managed to score once and assist another goal despite the other team’s relentless attack on her – and strands of dark hair that’s escaped her ponytail are matted to her face as she sprints down the field, dribbling the ball at her feet with incredible finesse and ease, leaving everyone else scrambling to catch up.

 

You’re reminded of just how much of herself she gives to everything that she does. You watch her weave through the other team’s defenses, juke one or two bodies before there’s nothing but the goalie between her and the net, and when you see her slightly turn to one side, just enough to lure the goalie into one direction, you, along with the entire stadium, know she’s going to score.

 

It’s seconds later when you hear the crowd around you erupt in cheers and you watch her teammates surround her in elation, knowing that her latest strike is what they needed to put the game away.

 

 

 

 

The heater is on blast in your car as you wait outside of the hotel for Lauren's team bus to arrive and you hope that the four-hour or so drive that you made isn't all in vain. You don't think you'd really blame Lauren if she did turn you away though. You said some awful things about her even after getting to know her.

 

She’s one of the last people to get off the bus and you barely make it out of your car in time to catch her before she enters the building.

 

“Lauren!”

 

She turns towards you and there’s clear surprise in her green eyes before she schools her expression to be passive as she cautiously walks towards you.

 

“Camila. What are you doing here?”

 

“Can we talk?” You nervously wring your fingers as you watch her eyes study you closely, her brows furrowing when she answers.

 

“Did you sit out in the rain or something?”

 

The small laugh that comes out of you is nervous, but you push through. “Yeah, I was just – it was-” You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself under her gaze. “It was an open stadium so,” you shrug.

 

Her features soften as she adjusts the duffel bag strap resting on her shoulder. “You watched my game?”

 

“I haven’t missed a game since we’ve become friends and I don’t intend on breaking that because I’ve been an idiot,” you say lightheartedly.

 

You watch as she removes her team jacket and offers it to you while you reach out for it hesitantly.

 

“Thanks.” You know there’s a blush forming on your cheeks, but you hope she thinks it’s from the cold and not from that feeling deep inside you that she still cares about you somehow.

 

“There’s a park nearby. We can talk there.”

 

 

 

 

\---

“I’m sorry.” You start with that because you _are_ sorry and you don’t really know what else to say except that you regret everything you said and you wish you hadn’t been so stubborn with your feelings.

 

“Is that really what you think of me?” You’re sitting side by side on a park bench and she’s looking ahead like she’s scared of what you might say and you can’t help yourself when you take her hand in yours and intertwine your fingers as you set it on your lap.

 

She’s surprised at first, but you take it as a victory when she doesn’t pull away and you smile at how perfectly your fingers fit in the spaces between hers. You were powerless against this from the start and it’s silly that you thought you had a chance to fight it.

 

“No. Absolutely not.” You accompany your words with a shake of your head and you keep your eyes on your hands as she turns to look at you now. “I only said those things because – because I felt cornered and Dinah was really hitting a nerve and –” You take a deep breath and hope to god that you aren’t messing this up even more. “I was trying to convince myself that I wasn’t falling for you as fast as I was.” You look up to meet her eyes and give her a watery smile while she continues to look into yours as if you hold the world’s answers. It’s amazing how easily she can dismantle the defenses you’ve set for yourself with a simple look. “How fast I’m _still_ falling.”

 

You count the seconds of silence that pass by with the same number of beats your heart skips in your chest and you finally pull your hand away when she continues to stay silent, bringing it up to your face to wipe the tears that have fallen while you try to salvage whatever dignity is left in you.

 

“I understand if you don’t want to be friends with me any-”

 

“You’re right.” The way she says it – with a tone of finality that feels more like the last pierce into your heart that completely shatters it for good – it feels like finally hitting the ground. You’ve been falling hard and fast ever since she called you princess on your first day of tutoring and now you’ve reached the end and you realize you’ve been falling by yourself this whole time. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

 

You power through because there’s not much else you _can_ do and you suppose you only have yourself to blame really. “Yeah yeah – of course,” your voice cracks with the emotion that’s weighing in your chest. You start to stand up when you feel her fingers gently wrap around your wrist and you turn back to see her watching you with a soft smile.

 

“I don’t want to be friends because I like you, Camila.” Her words shoot through you and the warmth of her tone wraps around you and gives you a feeling like you’ve never felt before.

 

“Wha –what?”

 

She pulls you back to sit next to her and slides her hand down your wrist until she’s enclosed your fingers in hers, gently running her thumb across the back of your hand and along your knuckles, the gesture immediately calming you down. “I’ve been trying to build up the courage to tell you how I feel these past few weeks,” she laughs to herself before continuing. “I’m pretty sure I’ve taken you out on a date. You just didn’t realize.”

 

And now you’re absolutely baffled because how could you have missed it. You pay attention to Lauren more than anything else around you and you swear you would have known if she liked you back even in the slightest.

 

“I don’t – I’m – how?”

 

“How?” She lets out a laugh like she can’t believe you’re even questioning her feelings for you. “I don’t know, Cabello. It’s everything about you.” Her words fall from her lips and slam against your chest in a way that takes your breath away. “Your smile,” her eyes fall on your parted lips. “Your mind,” she gently brushes a strand of hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. “Your heart,” she says it so sincerely that you can’t help but believe her. “And I don’t know,” she shrugs as if she isn’t causing an absolute commotion inside of you. “You’re not afraid to give me shit.”

 

"I'm sorry – I still don't –" She cuts you off with soft lips and it feels like coming up for air and drowning in all of her all at the same time. Her lips move with the right amount of tenderness and hunger and you're finding it hard to breathe, but you think you'd gladly give up all the oxygen in the world to taste her smile in your mouth like you do now.

 

“I am irrevocably and undeniably falling in love with you, Camila Cabello.” She breathes the words against your lips when she pulls back and leans her forehead against yours and you revel in the way her breath shakes and her hands tremble against your hips -  letting you know that you have the same effect on her as she does on you.

 

 

 

 

 

You walk back to the hotel with intertwined hands and you’re not totally convinced everything is real yet.

 

“Well, I’ll see you when you get back,” you manage to say when you arrive at the front of the hotel, but you feel yourself getting pulled back when you try to let go of Lauren’s hand.

 

She furrows her brows in confusion as she tightens her hold on you, as if she’s afraid that you’ll try to pull away again. “Um – what do you mean? Aren’t you staying for the whole tournament?”

 

“Oh uh,” you stutter because yeah, you’d _love_ to stay. You just didn’t plan for it. You’d been too preoccupied with trying to get Lauren to talk to you in the first place. “I only really came to apologize,” you say with a weak smile. “Didn’t bother with a hotel or anything because I wasn’t completely sure if you were going to talk to me at all. Which would have been totally understandable.”

 

“Camila, you’re not going to drive back to New York at this hour.”

 

“Yeah I mean it’s not a big dea-”

 

“Just stay in my room.”

 

Your eyes widen and you hope Lauren can’t hear how hard your heart seems to be pounding in your ears. “Uh well that’s – uh”

 

“Camz,” she says with a gentle laugh. “Come on, I’m not gonna, like, jump you or anything.”

 

_Well, why not?_

 

“No it’s not – I didn’t mean-”

 

“You’d really rather drive back than spend the night with me, huh?” Her voice is teasing, but it’s laced with the tiniest hint of insecurity and you should really stop assuming that she wants to sleep with you at all times.

 

You give her a smile you hope is genuine and squeeze her hand in yours when you answer, “That’d be nice actually.”

 

The smile she gives you is blinding and you still don’t understand what she sees in you, but you sure are going to enjoy it as much as you can [you wish you knew just how limited your time with her actually was].

 

After getting over the fact that Lauren sleeps in nothing but a shirt and lace underwear (because of course, she does. Sometimes you feel like you're in a movie or, like, a fanfic, or something), you manage to get in bed and because two can play at this game, you decide you're sleeping in nothing but a shirt and underwear too. Granted, your underwear is not as sexy (your _Iron Man_ boy shorts are very comfortable so you like them), but you still notice the hitch in Lauren’s breath when you come out of the bathroom and you think maybe you’re not doing too bad.

 

After a few minutes of just lying in silence, you find yourself on your side, Lauren mirroring your position and looking at you like you’re the only thing in this world that matters.

 

“So what does this mean?” Your voice comes out surprisingly steady even though Lauren’s plump lips are only a few inches from yours.

 

She gives you a smile that takes your breath away and you can’t believe that you get to see this side of her – the one that’s soft and yielding and warm and something you’d like to bottle up and save for a rainy day.

 

She takes your hand from where it’s resting in between you and handles it with such tenderness you swear you’re going to break from everything you’re feeling all at once. And when she lifts your hand to her mouth, leaving a delicate kiss on your wrist and looking at you with nothing but fondness, you internally scold yourself for almost losing all of _this_ because you were afraid to get your heart broken.

 

“It means,” another kiss on your palm. “That I want to take you out on a date. So,” she takes a breath as if she’s preparing for you to say no. “Will you go out on a date with me, Miss Cabello?”

 

You’re smiling widely. You can feel it in the way your cheeks are bunching up and you’re probably showing way too much teeth, but you can’t help it when Lauren Jauregui is looking at you with so much hope, like you’re holding her heart, bare and vulnerable, in the palm of your hands.

 

“Of course,” you answer softly. “Although I should let you know,” there’s a teasing curve to your lips as you watch her furrow her brows in confusion for what you’re about to say. “I don’t have sex on the first date,” you add cheekily.

 

Lauren is surprised for a second before you see her features form a smirk of her own and it’s incredible, really, how she transforms from soft and gentle to alluring and seductive in the mere second that’s passed. Her eyes smolder and she wets her lips slowly, running a pink tongue on luscious lips as she holds you captive in all of her essence.

 

"Oh really?" Her voice comes out in a raspier tone that shoots right through you as she moves in a way you can only describe as practiced ease when she hovers right over your body and cages you in with both her arms on either side of your head. "Well, it's a good thing then that tonight isn't our first date, huh?"

 

You’re paralyzed under her gaze and you don’t have complete control over your voice so all you manage to do is stare at her lips, wet and glistening from her tongue, and you close your eyes and submit to her when she leans forward, her lips ghosting your own.

 

Then you feel her slightly shift and you feel those very same lips you’ve been expecting land softly on your forehead. “Goodnight, Camila,” she whispers against your skins and chuckles to herself as she gets off of you.

 

You only open your eyes when you’re sure you’re not going to get right on top of Lauren and ask her to take you right there and there and you take a few calming breaths before turning to her and seeing her back in her original position, well on her way to sleep.

 

You don’t know whether you’re relieved or disappointed.

 

  


 

\---

 

 

 

 

 

She takes you to the pond at night. Your campus has a giant pond that the university probably spent way too much money on, but you appreciate all of that when she walks you to a spot near the pond and there are fairy lights hung on the trees and various outdoor lanterns surrounding a neatly laid-out picnic blanket.

 

It’s the end of the semester and the campus is essentially deserted – there’s nothing and no one but Lauren, you, and the stars and your heart fills with undeniable happiness at the smile she gives you when you tell her that this is already the best first date you’ve ever been on. You’re trying to savor your time with Lauren because she’s going off to training camp soon and you’re supposed to be packing for a summer internship across the country in Stanford.

 

You knew Lauren was a great cook so you're not surprised when she brings out Caprese chicken sandwiches and pasta salads that look straight out of a cookbook.

 

Your date is filled with great conversation, bad jokes, and shy smiles and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so _content_ – as if you’re suddenly getting everything you didn’t even know you needed. She tells you that she took you to the pond because that’s where she first laid eyes on you and you think you fall further in love with every gentle smile she wears or small blush that comes on her cheeks whenever she’d get to a particularly embarrassing part of her story.

 

She tells you that she first saw you during the first week of freshman year, nose buried in a book and wearing your favorite ripped jeans paired with a pride shirt that’s one size too big on you, one sleeve hanging off of your shoulder loosely. She also tells you that ever since then, she’s been trying to get on your radar, but it turns out that _It’s very hard to be in the same class as a bioengineering major when you’re in business, Camz!_

Her eyes twinkle with every laugh that comes out of you and you wonder if even the stars envy the way her eyes shine brighter than the galaxies in this universe.

 

You feel your heart surrendering itself to Lauren with every detail you learn of just how hard she’s tried for you to even _talk_ to her. You learn that the story she’d given you about registering late to a basic science class wasn’t the real reason she ended up in the fundamentals of biology class that has led to the two of you properly talking. She’d purposely taken that class when a friend of hers – that friend being Dinah – told her that you’d be tutoring it. You didn’t know Dinah before Lauren nor do you understand how she could have known you’d be tutoring that class, but you’re thankful anyway.

 

You also learn that she'd sign up for every tutoring spot available at the beginning of the semester in hopes of figuring out which slot you were in and you don't think you could fall any deeper.

 

Lauren doesn’t hesitate to carve both of your initials on a nearby tree because _You deserve a story-book romance, Camz,_ university laws be damned. And after Lauren spends fifteen minutes trying to wrap her head around the fact that Camila _is_ your middle name, and another ten of her trying (in vain) to not tease you about your first name ( _That could be like your stripper name, Camz)_ , you smile at the surprisingly well-carved initials on the trunk of the tree you’ve been sitting under.

 

 

 

_LMJ x KCC_

You don’t hesitate to invite her back to your apartment.

 

You were lucky enough to find an apartment just off-campus for your junior and senior year because if you walk in on any more of your floormates doing it in the shared shower area, you think you might actually lose your mind completely.

 

So you got an apartment with Hailee and she happens to be visiting family this weekend. Which, really doesn’t matter because it’s not like you’re going to have sex on the first date.

 

 

There’s undeniable tension in the air when Lauren enters your apartment and you realize you might not have thought this out as much as you should have. She settles for coffee when you ask her if she wants anything to drink, but her eyes haven’t left you this whole time and you’re feeling vulnerable and empowered at the same time.

 

You have small talk over coffee on your couch and it seems like you’re both waiting on one another to make a move when Lauren finally scoots closer in the same second that you stand up abruptly, almost spilling coffee all over yourself and startling the both of you.

 

“I gotta – uh – check something in the kitchen.” You practically run out of the living room and when you get to the kitchen, you lean your hands on the counter and take a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart.

 

 

_Okay. This isn’t a big deal. It doesn’t have to be. So what if you have Lauren Jauregui in an apartment that you have all to yourself. That doesn’t mean anything. Stop being such a 12-year old boy, Camila._

Just when you think you've calmed down, your heart rate spikes up at the touch of a soft hand gently brushing your hair aside to put it all over one shoulder. You feel Lauren's warmth come up behind you and she places her body flush against your back, igniting something inside you and making you hyper-aware of every minute sensation.

 

You feel Lauren wrap her own arms around your waist and lean them on the counter next to yours, trapping you in between her body and the counter. “Lau- Laur- Oh!”

 

You forget everything you were going to say because you feel her lips on your neck as she leaves a particularly harsh bite, sucking on your skin eagerly, which she soothes immediately with a languid lick of her tongue and you have to hold onto the counter a little tighter.

 

“What is it, baby?” She husks against your neck and her warm breath sets your entire body ablaze.

 

“We have to – um – we have-” You take another deep breath in a last attempt to take control and you turn around in her arms ready to remind her about your rule.

 

But you meet her eyes and everything you were going to say flies out the window. Her eyes are dark, the green of it being overshadowed by her enlarged pupils and she’s biting her lower lip and it’s really not fair how one person can be so attractive.

 

“Oh, fuck it,” you mutter to yourself before your hands fly to the back of her head and you pull her towards you, crashing your lips eagerly.

 

Her hands immediately find your waist and she grips harder at the insistent swipe of your tongue against her lips. You feel her touch slide back and down your ass and before you know it, she’s got you hoisted on the counter and has moved her addicting lips onto your neck, kissing and biting and sucking right where your pulse is thrumming against your skin and your body feels like it’s on fire, Lauren’s lips searing your skin as she leaves a trail along your collarbone and down your chest.

 

As hot as it is to get fucked on the counter, you want to be a little bit more comfortable, so with all the willpower you didn’t know you had in you, you pull back from Lauren and her protest dies in her mouth when you kiss her on the lips.

 

“Bedroom.” The word comes out of your mouth breathy and low and you don’t even finish before Lauren wraps your legs around her waist and starts to walk the two of you to your room.

 

You explore each other’s bodies in as many ways as you can – soft and slow, fast and rough, unyielding, without reservation – open and vulnerable to each other. You feel everything all at once as Lauren’s lips, swollen from your eager mouth, travels down your naked body, heat radiating from you in waves as she marks every inch of skin she can before finally putting her mouth right on your dripping sex – eagerly sucking and lapping through your folds, her tongue relentless against your heat and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

 

You bite your lip hard and thrash as you grab onto Lauren's hair and before you know it, a rush of white-hot pleasure courses through you as your back bows off the bed and you pull on Lauren's head to keep her mouth against your sex and you almost come again when you open your eyes and see her eagerly cleaning you up, her head bobbing up and down in between your legs.

 

As she climbs up your body with a smug grin, she barely has time to catch her breath before you have her on her back with every intention of returning the favor and more.

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

Your eyes flutter against the bright assault of the sun that’s pouring in through your drawn blinds and when you turn your head on the other side, expecting to see dark luscious hair, soft lashes curtaining over green eyes, and a generous amount of alabaster skin, you’re met with cold sheets instead – the only evidence of last night being the rumpled sheets around you and the sudden breeze sweeping over your exposed back and you sit up immediately, pulling up the sheets to your chest instinctively as you try to fight the tears you can feel stinging the back of your eyes.

 

You take a couple deep breaths to compose yourself as you look around and you notice that Lauren’s stuff is gone. Her clothes that you haphazardly ripped off her body in your desperation to touch her skin last night is no longer in heaps on the floor where you had thrown it.

 

After a few more moments of composing yourself, you finally get off your bed and try not think about how sore you are as you throw on a pair of fresh underwear and a shirt, not bothering with anything else because Hailee won’t be back till Monday anyway.

 

_You're so stupid, Camila. Of course, she'd leave after she's gotten what-_

The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the sight that greets you as enter the living room. You see Lauren with her back turned to you as she works on something on the stove and you can hear her lightly humming along to an Elvis classic. She’s taken it upon herself to borrow one of your larger shirts and even that only comes to barely cover her ass. Her wavy dark hair, which is as beautiful as ever, flows carelessly over her back as she lightly sways to her own humming and the way the loose shirt lightly follows her curves, falling against her skin delicately has you almost gasping for air. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to just how breathtaking Lauren can actually be.

 

You don’t even realize what you’re saying until the words are out of your mouth, clumsily tumbling out of your lips in the same unsteady rhythm you find your heart beating to at the flash of hurt that is immediate on Lauren’s face when she registers your words and what they imply. “You’re still here.” You couldn’t keep the surprise out of your tone if you tried.

 

You want to cut in and explain that you don’t mean it in _that way_ (even though you do) and you’re sorry for always being an ass, but before you can, she’s turning off the stove, preparing two plates full of your favorite breakfast foods, and sending you the softest of smiles as if you didn’t just assume (for the 727 th time) that she only wants to sleep with you.

 

You hate how she almost looks apologetic that she left you in bed alone even if it _is_ to make you breakfast. You hate how she’s looking at you like _she_ needs to be better – because even when _you’re_ the one to fuck up, she wants to always make you feel at ease. You almost hate how tender her gaze is, how her green eyes are bright but so _so_ yielding, as if she’s showing you that she’s physically tearing whatever walls she has built for herself – letting you in to do as you please – she’s baring her heart out to you, handing it out without reservation and all you’ve done so far is continue to doubt her.

 

She takes a seat on a bar stool and when she motions for you to come nearer, you find yourself powerless in the way everything about her magnetizes you. She reaches out a hand to gently take yours in hers and pulls you over until you're sitting sideways on her lap as she wraps one arm around your waist, interlacing the other with your hand delicately.

 

“You thought I’d leave.” It’s not a question. It’s steady in the assured way she says it (because you both know she’s telling the truth) and yet uncertain in the way it’s laced with insecurity.

 

“Wha- no I didn’t.” You think it’s worth a shot to try to lie your way out of having to talk about your fear of abandonment, but when she raises an eyebrow at you and focuses those eyes on yours like she’s not meant to be looking at anything else in this world, the rest of your lie dies in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you shake your head at yourself.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” She continues to play with your fingers and you feel her thumb running softly along your knuckles and you wonder how it’s taken almost no time for Lauren to figure out exactly just how to calm you down with a simple touch. “You don’t trust me, and –” She raises your connected hands in the air to stop you from interrupting and giving you a playfully stern look. “And that’s okay,” she ends softly.

 

You sigh because you want to refute her statement, but it’s not completely untrue. You _don’t_ trust her and it's not really because of her or anything she's done. A huge part of it is your insecurities telling you that all of this is too good to be true. That you don't really deserve somebody like Lauren. "Look, this sounds stupid. But I promise it's not you –"

 

“It’s me?” Lauren finishes with a small chuckle. “Wow Cabello, you’re really gonna use that line on me?” There’s nothing but playfulness in her tone but you find yourself explaining anyway.

 

“I’m serious, Laur. _You’ve_ done nothing for me to not trust you," you make sure to look her in the eyes, as overwhelming of a task as that is, so she knows it's not her fault. "I have a lot of insecurities, and," you take a deep breath because you want to let her know that you want this just as much. "It's gonna take time, but I promise I'm working on it, okay? You're just gonna have to be a bit patient with me."

 

She takes your intertwined hands and brings it to her lips, softly kissing your fingers while keeping her eyes on you. “I’d wait for however long it takes for you to trust me, baby. And we’ll work on it together, okay? I guess I’ll just have to work hard to show you how much I really really _really_ like you.”

 

You don’t think it’s possible to be falling so soon after one date, but a voice in your head (that oddly sounds a lot like Dinah) is saying you’ve probably been falling for Lauren Jauregui before you were even aware of your feelings.

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

You’re ready to shed every piece of constricting clothing that’s currently on you, never wear godforsaken heels ever again, and curl up in bed with Lauren – maybe cry a little because you’re so tired as you enter the threshold of your girlfriend’s apartment and throw your shoes to the side, when you feel Lauren gently grab your hand and turn you around so you’re facing one another, her thumb immediately moving to rub along your knuckles in that way that she’s learned instantly calms you down.

 

You meet her eyes and she gives you a look so soft it barrels right through your remaining defenses. "What's wrong, baby?" Her voice is soothing and she brings her other hand to gently cup your face, tilting it up slightly so you keep your eyes on hers.

 

“Nothing,” you say instinctively, trying your best in giving her a genuine smile.

 

She kinks an eyebrow at you and gives you an amused smile as she raises your intertwined hands to her lips, leaving a soft kiss on the back of your hand and persistently tearing down whatever barrier you thought you’d put up. “Now that that’s out of the way, why don’t you try again, babe?”

 

You sigh because you wish you didn’t need to have this conversation right now but in the month or so that you’ve been official with Lauren, you’re learning that you really have no willpower in denying her anything.

 

“Your mom hates me.” It’s a statement more than anything. You don’t waver nor is there a questioning tilt in your tone when you let the words go because you’ve gathered that much if anything from this disaster of a night.

 

Lauren’s family was hosting a charity gala for something you’ve completely forgotten about at this point and naturally, she wanted to use the opportunity to introduce you to her parents and as much as she reassured you that everything would be alright, all your fears about meeting the parents had essentially come true.

 

You were a nervous, stuttering mess, nearly spilling your drink on Lauren twice and if it weren’t for her insanely quick reflexes, you would have ruined her two-thousand-dollar dress right in front of her family’s most important business partners. She’d gracefully and effortlessly played off your clumsiness, managing to paint you in a still-somewhat likable light despite your multiple faux pas during the evening.

 

You’ve never felt so out of your league until you were surrounded with what seemed like the top one percent of the nation and you’ve never really come to realize just how influential Lauren’s family is until now.

 

You've always seen your Lauren as the school star, excelling in multiple sports and wooing ladies off their feet with a flip of her hair. The same Lauren that's secretly a dork and is a badass to everyone else but an absolute softie for you. You've never really given thought to how she's the heir to the largest international shipping company in the world and is set to inherit a multi-billion-dollar enterprise straight out of college until you saw her mingling with their family's business partners, easily sweet-talking men in their fifties with barely twenty-year-old bombshells hanging off their arms.

 

And if you didn’t tell yourself enough that Lauren was too good for you, her mother made sure that you knew.

 

“What? No she doesn’t,” Lauren immediately responds, shaking her head for emphasis and scrunching her eyebrows together and you almost get distracted with how adorable her confused face is, but you pull yourself together long enough to get your point across.

 

You raise an eyebrow at her and when she continues to look at you like you’ve grown a second hand, you stand up straight and square your shoulders, clearing your throat to achieve that regal aura that Lauren’s mother seems to always wear before you do your best impression of her. “Es en serio, mija? Hablaremos de esto luego.” Is basically what she said when Lauren had introduced the two of you.

 

“Okay, you sounded just like my mom. Please don’t ever do that again,” Lauren tells you in mock-horror.

 

“I mean, can she not tell that I’m Hispanic? I very much understood what she said when you tried to introduce me to her,” you say in exasperation. “Oh my god. That’s just another reason for her to hate me. I’m not Hispanic enough for you!” You say as you bring a hand to your forehead, increasingly (albeit a little too dramatically) getting panicked about the situation.

 

“Baby, you’re plenty Hispanic, first of all,” she tells you with an amused smile as she gently takes your hands again in hers, prying them from your forehead and looking at you with those eyes you love so much. “Second of all, she doesn’t hate you.”

 

You can’t help but laugh at that because anyone with eyes would’ve been able to tell just how much she didn’t like you for Lauren without her needing to say a single word.

 

“Listen, mom is…” she trails off as she thinks about how to phrase her next words. “Strict. But,” she lifts a finger in the air to stop you from interrupting. “That’s just who she is, you know? She was tough on me growing up because that’s how she showed that she cares. She needed to get me ready for the business world, but it all comes from a place of love,” she tells you with a sincere smile. “Trust me, she’ll warm up to you eventually. She’ll realize just how happy you make me and she’ll love you in no time.”

 

“Hm, debatable. But if you say so,” you shrug with an easy smile to let her know that you’re fine about this for now. You try to come out of her embrace, but she wraps both arms around your waist and holds you close, keeping your lips mere hairbreadths away.

 

“Wait, we didn’t get to do something at the gala because I was so busy.”

 

“And what would that be, Miss Jauregui?”

 

She pulls back and gives you a tender smile while taking one of your arms and wrapping it around her neck as she slides one hand to the base of your back, the other taking your hand in hers while keeping your bodies close.

 

“May I have this dance, Miss Cabello?” She asks you with a cheeky grin.

 

You roll your eyes lightheartedly in an attempt to draw attention away from the blush you can feel creeping up your neck from the gesture. “I don’t know how you think we’re supposed to dance when there’s no music, but whatever floats your boat, babe.”

 

Lauren starts swaying the two of you gently, moving her feet with ease and absolute grace while you struggle to stay upright on yours. At least you’ve taken your shoes off so it won’t be too bad when you inevitably step on her feet.

 

And then you hear her start to softly sing, her voice floating seamlessly through the air and filling your ears with a melody your heart knows the beat to, the lyrics falling from her lips and wrapping you in its magic like the first fall of snow that lightly blankets the ground.

 

“ _Wise men say, only fools rush in.”_ Her voice is raspy and low and beautiful and you're absolutely captivated by the way she's singing to you like she's not meant to do anything else. " _But I can’t help,”_ she looks right into your eyes as she leans even closer. _“…falling in love with you.”_

 

You’re entranced by everything that is Lauren – the way her eyes are looking into yours like she can see right through you, right through the defenses you thought you’d built up pretty well; the way her lips are curved in the softest of smiles, making your heart flutter and causing a chaos inside of you that you don’t feel quite compelled to stop; the way her fingers wrap around yours delicately, the way the warmth of her hand on your back is igniting your entire body – you don’t think you’ve ever felt _so_ _much_ and your heart is bursting with everything you want to say, but can’t find the words to.

 

You think that this – right here, in Lauren’s apartment, barefoot and slow-dancing to the tune of her voice while she gently sways the two of you, your bodies moving as if they’re one – this is the moment you know you’ll never forget. The moment you’ll carry with you in your heart and in your soul no matter what happens.

 

You just didn’t know that you were going to be alone in remembering these memories.

 

 

 

 ---------------------------------------------------

**A/N: end of flashback for now**

**\-----------------------------------------------  
**

You enter Harry’s room and you’re met with panicked eyes and frantic chatter as you watch your friends argue about something while Lauren sits to the side, watching the entire thing with an amused look on her face.

 

Your eyes meet amidst all the chaos because apparently, even after all these years(.mp3), even after her memory of everything that is you has been erased, that _thing_ you do – the one where you always seem to know where the other person is no matter the situation – you’re both still pretty good at it.

 

You don’t know if you’re imagining it, but you seem to catch the green of her eyes soften the moment they land on you and the smile on her lips turns from teasing to something a little bit gentler – the kind she’s always reserved just for you.

 

“Okay, anyone wanna tell me what’s going on?” You finally speak up after a few moments because you don’t think you can take any more of the way Harry is constantly messing with his hair and the way Louis is biting on his nails like there’s no tomorrow.

 

“Camila! Oh my gosh, thank god you’re here.” _Oh no,_ you think to yourself.

 

“What did you do?”

 

“Okay, let it be known, that I’m an excitable human being and I couldn’t control myself when I saw Mani’s dress and –”

 

“You ruined Mani’s dress?!”

 

There’s a chorus of _shhh’s_ and _Oh my god, Camila!_ ’s, with Hailee’s _Why don’t you just shout it to the world, will ya_ sounding above the rest.

 

“What even happened?” You ask incredulously as you try to look around the room for anything that could help you understand the situation.

 

“There may or may not be the _tiniest_ bit of a tear near the very bottom of Mani’s dress,” Harry tries to explain with animated hand movements and all you can register is “tear” and “Mani’s dress” and you hope and pray that Harry makes it out of Hawaii alive.

 

“What’s your plan?”

 

“Well, so I’ve called around – you know, used as many of the connections I know back in New York to see if they have contacts here and we found someone that could possibly fix it on very short notice.” You hold back the _yeah, like two days before the wedding_ that’s dying to come out of your throat because as much as you love messing with Harry, he looks rattled enough. “But it’s at least an hour drive away and so I just need you, my best friend of all time,” he punctuates the statement with a beaming smile, “to get the dress there and all will be fine!”

 

“Um, why does it have to be me?” You look around at expectant faces and you know they’ve already decided who was going to do this before you even finish your sentence.

 

“One,” Louis steps up and brings up his index finger as if to start counting. “There can’t be too many of us that go because Mani and Dinah come by the house all the time and they’re going to know something is up if a lot of us are suddenly missing two days before the wedding-”

 

“Okay, but that doesn’t answer as to why _I_ have-”

 

“Camila, you’re the worst liar in our group of friends,” Liam joins the conversation with a light chuckle. “One look from Mani and you’re going to start spilling out information without her even asking about it.”

 

“Wha – what. That’s not true!” At everyone’s look of unimpressed disbelief, the rest of your protest dies in your throat and you settle for pouting and crossing your arms instead. “I can totally keep a secret,” you insist.

 

“Come on, Mila. Pretty please,” Harry pleads with his hands clasped together, batting his lashes in the way he knows always gets to you. “Drive the dress to our contact and we’ll stall Mani and Dinah here.”

 

“I don’t know this place very well, Haz-”

 

“Lauren said she’ll come with you,” Ally pipes in happily and you look at your friends one more time, the puzzle pieces finally coming together as you realize they’ve decided to use this unfortunate situation as yet another way to play Cupid and try to get you alone with Lauren, as if that’s going to magically get her to remember that she was in love with you.

 

You’re ready to turn your friends down, tell them that they’re ridiculous and you’re not going to fall for whatever scheme they may be planning, but then Lauren is coming up to you, all shy and bashful, like she’s afraid that you’d want anything other than spend some time alone with her.

 

Which is ridiculous, you think.

 

Because the longing you’ve been feeling since setting your eyes on her once more had been so rampant, so deep in your bones that every cell in your body aches to reach out and touch her, to even be in her mere vicinity – you’d take anything at this point.

 

“Um, I’ll come with you Camila,” Lauren says timidly. “If you don’t mind the company. And – and also, you know, I think it’d be helpful if you went to this place with someone in case you get lost and so you won’t be alone or…”

 

Your mind is spinning at a dizzying speed at watching Lauren be shy and nervous. You’ve always known her to be confident, sure of herself even when she was in uncharted territory, never one to back down or bow her head and seeing her like _this_ – like she doesn’t know what to do with her hands or how to look at you – it takes you back to the few, rare times you’ve seen her be genuinely nervous.

 

When she asked you out for the first time. When she asked you to be her girlfriend. When she gave you the first of many important gifts to come – it was a handmade string bracelet that she’d made with her grandmother when she was seven and has worn since forever; she gave it to you as a good luck charm when you were freaking out about a test and told you she didn’t need it anymore because _you_ were her good luck charm. When she first let it slip that she loved you while she was rushing to get ready for class. When she asked you to move in with her.

 

“…but of course if you don’t want me to come that’s fine too and…” You realize you’ve been lost in your head for too long and you put her out of her misery before you lose this chance.

 

“I’d love it if you went with me.” You send her a genuine smile and the smile she gives you in return – wide and paired with a light shade of pink dusting her bunched up cheeks -  well, it lets you know that absolutely nothing has changed. You’re still just as willing to do anything to be on the receiving end of that smile.

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

 

You’re nervous and you know it’s showing. Your right knee is shaking without your permission and you know you’re assaulting your bottom lip as you look out the window of the rental car Lauren is driving in an attempt to keep yourself from staring at her side profile.

 

You’ve seen the worried glances she’s sent you this entire drive and you want to scream and tell her to stop looking at you like she used to when you were anxious – like she’s willing to do anything to make it all right again. She doesn’t have the right to look at you like that anymore because this isn’t your Lauren. This is a Lauren that doesn’t know you. A Lauren that isn’t aware that she owns all of your heart, broken pieces and all, even though you’ve lost your hold on hers a long time ago.

 

"Hey, is everything alright?" Her tone is soft and riddled with worry and you can't help but turn to her and even though your eyes meet for a mere second, staring into them still sends a shiver down your spine. You're as powerless against her as you've ever been.

 

You manage to gather enough willpower to tear your eyes away from her and look straight ahead of you, trying to keep your voice steady when you answer that you’re okay.

 

The thin thread by which your composure hangs snaps at the feel of Lauren’s hand gently grabbing yours, her fingers wrapping around your shaking ones as she moves to softly run her thumb along your knuckles.

 

Your heart is hammering in your chest and your pulse is deafening in your ears. You’re finding it hard to breathe, your ribcage feeling like it’s closing in on you with the rush of memories that’s assaulting your mind and Lauren’s touch is searing through your skin, alighting your nerves and leaving nothing but the embers of yesterday in its wake.

 

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll get the dress fixed and save this wedding,” she chuckles lightly and smiles at you in a way that she probably thinks is supposed to be comforting. But all you can register is how her touch has you tethered in the past, wrapping around your being and keeping you buried in the memories of how it _used_ to be.

 

You must have been quiet for some time as you continue to stare at your hands and Lauren takes it as you being uncomfortable with her touch, so she proceeds to draw her hand back, laughing nervously when the action finally gets your attention and you look up to meet her worried eyes. You can still feel her touch linger on your skin and you’re using every ounce of self-control you have to not grab her hand back.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I don’t know why I did that.” Her eyebrows are furrowed as she seems to shake her head at herself and you don’t hesitate to ease her worries.

 

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry I’ve been too in my head this entire time.” You muster up a small smile and take a deep breath to calm yourself back to the present. “But thanks, really. For – for trying to make sure I’m okay and coming to this thing with me.”

 

“Anytime,” she tells you easily and flashes you one of her smiles that never fails to ease your worries.

 

You wonder how it’s possible that the Lauren you’re with doesn’t remember anything about you, but somehow still knows how to maneuver the inner workings of your mind like she’d never left at all.

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

You get the dress fixed with a whole day to spare, minimal breakdowns from Harry, and only one or two suspicious looks from Normani when you get back with Lauren so you think that all in all, you did well. Spending time with Lauren hadn’t been as hard as you’d thought. Despite being the reason for why you’re always a stuttering mess, Lauren has managed to make you feel comfortable enough so you can actually look and talk to her like you aren’t always thinking about your past.

 

The wedding comes soon enough and you don’t think anything could have really prepared you for seeing Lauren looking the prettiest she’s ever been and it’s not fair because you’ve only just managed to calm your ever-racing heart in the few hours that you were separated from her when you went to get ready with Dinah’s entourage.

 

She’s wearing a simple pastel-pink bridesmaid dress with delicate spaghetti straps that show off her defined collar bones, her dark hair brushed back in loose waves and curtaining her soft features. The dress is charmeuse and the satin-like fabric elegantly contours the curves of her body, following the soft dip of her waist and the enticing shape of her hips as it lightly flows in the wind.

 

Her eyes are as bright and green as ever under the afternoon sun and you _know_ you’re staring but you can’t help it, you’ve always been in awe of her beauty – how it seems to radiate from the outside in, how her physical appearance is but a mere reflection of her good heart.

 

She’s utterly breathtaking and when you tell her as such, you revel in the way the blush on her cheeks matches her dress and the pink of her lips curve in a bashful smile and you wish you could suspend this moment and everything that surrounds it – the way that Lauren looks absolutely ethereal, the way she’s smiling at you, the flutter in your stomach and the skipping of your heart, the overall feeling of warmth and happiness that you’ve always associated with Lauren – you wish you could bottle it all up and save it for a day when you’re not with her.

 

You hardly register the wedding ceremony because every fiber of your being is attuned to Lauren, who’s standing across from you on the other side of the altar. There’s a soft smile on her face and a glassy look in her eyes as she watches Dinah and Normani exchange their vows amidst tearful laughter and then she turns your way and your eyes meet and she’s looking at you and you can’t breathe.

 

She’s looking at you like no one else matters. Like it could just as easily be the two of you in front of the altar, talking about how it would have been almost six years now of being together if it were the two of you exchanging vows. She’s looking at you like nothing has changed and you still hold each other’s hearts.

 

She’s looking at you like she hasn’t forgotten. Like she loves you. _Still_ loves you.

 

Like everything about her is remembering what you’re supposed to be to each other. It’s the first time you feel like you aren’t alone in the love you feel for her – this consuming love that you’ve been drowning in ever since you’ve seen her again.

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

Everyone is already drunk or well on their way there and you figure now’s as good as any to sneak away and wallow in your feelings because you don’t trust yourself to not do something you’ll regret in the morning if you tried to drink your sorrows away.

 

You see a small gazebo in the shallow part of the waters and a narrow path that leads to it from the shore, so you don’t hesitate to take your heels off and walk to the gazebo, relishing the soft sand beneath your feet and the cool breeze on your skin. There’s a thin layer of silver glint coating the dark waters in front of you as the full moon shines brightly on a backdrop of brilliant stars above.

 

If you thought you'd get some time to yourself and a break for your heart, then the universe clearly hasn't shown you enough times just how intent it is on making your life even harder than usual.

 

You’ve only been enjoying the peace for a few moments when you hear someone join you at the gazebo and _of course_ , it's Lauren. She leans her forearms on the railing, facing the water and mimicking your position before she turns her head towards you and gives you a small smile.

 

“You okay?” At your confused face, she elaborates. “I don’t know,” she shrugs while keeping her eyes on you, determined to really see through your defenses. “I guess I just wanted to make sure and check on you. I mean everyone _is_ getting drunk, you know,” she nudges you playfully and you can’t help but smile at how easy everything always seems to be with her. “You’re not gonna join them?”

 

“Nah,” you say with a lighthearted chuckle of your own. “No one needs to see _that_.”

 

You enjoy the shared silence for a few moments, just basking in the serenity of it all, in Lauren’s company, in the fact that even when you’re not touching or talking or even looking at each other – just being around her is enough for you to feel safe and content and you wonder if you’ll ever get out of this hold that Lauren has over you. You don’t think about how you’re not necessarily trying to get out.

 

After a few more moments of silence, Lauren speaks up and you find yourself entranced with the way her lips move and the way her tongue wraps around her words as they fall from her lips and jumpstarts the thundering in your heart once again.

 

“Have you ever been in love?”

 

You blink hard and fast and try to make your face look less anxious than you feel. “Um…”

 

“Well, it just got me thinking because we’re at a wedding and all,” she shrugs as she turns her head to look at the ocean instead. There’s a sudden somber look on her face, a deep kind of sadness permeating her usually bright eyes and the smile on her lips looks pained. “I just wonder if that’s something you forget.”

 

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat and you have to focus to hear Lauren over the pounding in your ears.

 

“This thing –” she gestures towards the space around her head. “This thing with my head is frustrating because yeah, there are so many things missing. In terms of information about what my life was like in college and things like that. But also,” she takes a deep breath and her face scrunches in confusion as you watch her try to find the right words. “I feel so – like, _incomplete_.” She directs her eyes towards you and there’s a subtle hint of a hopeless plea in them. Like she’s desperate to find the answers to her questions in your eyes. “I feel incomplete in more than just my missing memories. Like I’ve lost a part of me that goes beyond what I can’t remember.”

 

When you don’t answer, she shakes her head and laughs lightly to herself. “Sorry, you probably don’t wanna hear my sob story-”

 

"Hey, it's okay," you say softly and you take it as a victory for your self-control when you don't take her hand in yours regardless of the unbelievable pull you feel towards her. "I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through."

 

“So…” her eyes search yours curiously before she continues. “You’ve been in love?”

 

“Yeah,” you answer quietly, as if speaking any louder would break the bubble you’re in right now. The one where it’s just you and Lauren like you’ve always known.

 

“I’m just gonna push my luck here and ask, how was that?”

 

You can't help the sad smile that forms on your face. You hope she doesn't notice the slight tremble that coats the curve of your lips when you answer. How do you look at the love of your life while trying to figure out how to tell her that you're _still_ in love, but that you’re on your own now.

 

“It was everything I never knew I needed.”

 

She’s still looking at you with rapt attention, as if your answer is the one thing she’s been looking for this whole time she’s been trying to figure out her past.

 

“What happened?” Her voice has gone even softer, her words falling from her lips delicately and wiggling their way through your ribcage, like fingers wrapping around your heart and filling your chest with the kind of pain you figure you’re going to have to get used to.

 

_You forgot you loved me._

 

It comes out as, “They moved away.”

 

“Ah,” she nods her head understandingly. “Long distance relationships are hard.”

 

“Yeah, they are.” You hope your voice doesn’t crack under the weight of emotions that are coursing through your veins.

 

“Well I wouldn’t be too sad if I were you,” she tells you with a genuine smile.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“From the small amount of time I’ve spent with you, I can tell you that anyone would be lucky to have you.”

 

You wonder if it’ll ever stop being painful getting reminded that you’re the only one still in love in this story.

 

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n:
> 
>  
> 
> this is so angsty im sorry yikes, but it all ends well i promise !
> 
>  
> 
> for those who read "hold over my heart", im sooo sorry for taking so long on the update, i promise i havent forgotten about it. i really am just incapable of writing multiple stories at the same time, so I’m focusing on this and will try to get the final part out before working on the next chapter for homh
> 
>  
> 
> as always, I’d love to hear what y’all think
> 
>  
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> feel free to leave a vote/comment/feedback if ya feel like it!
> 
>  
> 
> -maddox (wattpad: jaureguicabello5eva)


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: this is a very, verY late birthday gift to my good pal, ao3 user: mndng . she didn’t rly ask for this as a present, but it’s what she’s getting from me.
> 
>  
> 
> tw: mention of shooting (imma point it out when it gets closer)

**\--  
**

You’re back in your apartment, but your mind is stuck on what has happened in the last few days. In the short amount of time that you’ve spent with Lauren, she’s managed to turn your world upside down and wreak havoc in the peace of mind you _thought_ you’ve successfully created for yoursel

 

You were so close in believing that you’ve moved on. That two years have been more than enough time to forget about someone who’s forgotten everything about you. That your heart no longer beats for her, aches to be with her, breaks with every second that passes that you’re _not_ with her. That you can finally breathe without feeling like the air that’s rushing into your lungs is only there to suffocate you.

 

You were so _close_.

 

And you’ve even taken solace in the fact that she doesn’t remember you when you found out that you were going to see her again. That, _maybe,_ the fact that she’s not trying to intentionally hurt you, the fact that you lost her not because of something you did, but that the two of you are mere victims of the hands of fate, is something you could at least take some comfort in. It’s not that she didn’t want you anymore. She’s merely forgotten, none of this is in her control after all.

 

But then you couldn’t even have that. You couldn’t even take comfort in the fact that she doesn’t remember you, because if there’s anything that the last few days have hinted at you, it’s the possibility that she might not have completely forgotten everything.

 

You know you really shouldn’t hang onto such a thin thread of hope, but you can’t help the warm glow that’s budding at the base of your chest, seeping through the cracks of its broken pieces and filling your heart with a familiar warmth when you think about how she’s not lost the ability to find your eyes across a crowded room. How she reaches for your hand out of instinct only to pull back when she catches herself. How she knows to send _that_ smile. The kind that she’s only ever directed at you.

 

How she didn’t even hesitate to take your hand in hers and run her thumb along your knuckles in the way that she’s always done whenever you were anxious.

 

You don’t want to be so hopeful but you can’t help it.

 

So you call the one person that’s always understood you better than anyone else outside of Lauren.

 

“Hey Chanch, what’s up?” You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips at the sound of your best friend’s voice.

 

“Nothing,” you respond with a shrug even though you know she can’t see you. “Just wanted to check on how married life is treating you.”

 

“Really now?” She’s not even trying to pretend like she buys your bullshit for one second.

 

“Yeah, of course!” Your pitch is a little high but it doesn’t stop you from trying to delay what you really want to ask. You’re afraid the conversation that’ll ensue won’t be as ideal as the hope that keeps forming in your chest without your permission.

 

Dinah seems to contemplate if she wants to keep playing this game before she answers in a way only she knows how to. “Everything is absolutely amazing. Forget what they tell you about married sex. It’s even better.”

 

“Dinah!”

 

“And now that that’s out of the way. Can you tell me what you _really_ wanted to talk to me about?”

 

You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a second because even though this is your best friend, and even though you know you can tell her anything, you’re both thankful for and terrified of her brutal honesty.

 

“I think – I think Lauren is starting to remember some things.”

 

There’s a heavy silence and you count the seconds that pass in the same number of beats that your heart skips as you wait for a response.

 

“Camila…” And that alone is almost enough to break your resolve. The way it drops from Dinah’s lips and carries through the speaker – it’s meant to be soft and gentle, but it feels like getting the wind knocked out of your chest and you swallow hard and blink fast if only to keep yourself from completely breaking down.

 

“No, you’re right.” You manage to get out. “I’m being stupid.” A laugh comes out of you and it feels more like acid coming up your throat and you hope it doesn’t sound as rough as it feels.

 

“Chanch, wait, no. You’re not being stupid. Just –” She takes a breath before continuing. “What makes you say that?”

 

“I don’t – I mean, there are just _things_ , you know,” you try to explain yourself as you start pacing across your living room now, hand gesticulating wildly in the air as if that’d help you get your point across. “Sometimes, she looks at me like she remembers and it’s – I don’t really know how to explain it. And – and she does this particular thing, okay?”

 

Dinah lets out a soft sound of acknowledgment. You can't be thankful enough for her patience.

 

“She used to do this thing with our hands whenever I feel anxious or sad or whenever she just needed to let me know that she’s there when I’m ready to talk and she _did_ that, Dinah,” you exhale, feeling defeated with each word that comes out of your mouth. Now that you’re able to say your thoughts out loud, you can’t help but shrink into yourself. Like maybe you didn’t have as much of a case as you had thought. “She did it without hesitation. Like she’d always done it and no time has passed at all.” You manage to barrel through the rest of your explanation with a sigh.

 

“For the record,” Dinah starts and you can hear the small smile that must be forming on her lips. “I _don’t_ think you’ve completely lost your mind. I wouldn’t put it past you and Lause – you and Lauren,” she amends and you swallow because you know exactly how it feels. How easy it is to fall back into old habits of nicknames and fond smiles and knowing looks, only to be brought back to the harsh reality that this is the present after all whenever you see the confused look on Lauren’s features that says she’s not quite the same Lauren anymore. “I wouldn’t put it past you and Lauren to have some weird hand-finger lesbian thing I’m not privy to,” and you make a mental note to call Dinah more, because as much as you’ve been a neglectful best friend in the last couple years, she’s continued to be there when you need her most. “And maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not.”

 

Her voice is the softest you’ve ever heard on the last word -  as if she’s trying to soften the blow.

 

“But I want you to be careful, okay? Do what you have to do. Talk to her, talk to Clara,” she takes a moment to let her words sink in. “But whatever it is, just – just don’t get your hopes up too much, okay? You’ve been through enough, Chanch.”

 

You close your eyes in an attempt to keep the burning you can feel forming behind your eyelids from spilling out as you try to center yourself and gather your thoughts.

 

"Okay." Your answer is breathy and uncertain and you can almost see Dinah's pitying eyes so you rush to end the call. "Thanks, Cheech. I really appreciate it." You hope she can sense all the words unsaid and you promise yourself to be a better friend.

 

“Anytime, Walz.”

 

 

 

 

*****tw: mention of shooting*****

 

 

And it’s during these times when the memory of what happened that day is most prominent at the forefront of your mind. It’s times like these – when you’re alone and it’s nighttime and Lauren isn’t here to be your rock, your lifeline, your very own anchor that tethers you to reality to keep you from getting too lost in your head – that the scene that you’ll never forget, plays over and over in your head.

 

You remember it too clearly. You and Lauren were on a road trip to nowhere during one of the few rare weekends that you both managed to actually be free from your demanding schedules. You went on these road trips as often as you could and it’s something you’ve grown to cherish.

 

You’d drive for hours on end, wasting away the day with the sun and the wind beating against your skin, and you remember reveling in the warmth of Lauren’s presence and being wrapped up in the music blasting from her speakers. You remember seeing Lauren at her happiest, smile wide and eyes bright under the sun as she sings along to the radio without a care in the world, the melody of her voice drifting through the air, light and relaxed and _beautiful_ , and you remember thinking that these are the moments that you’ll always look back on with a smile on your face no matter what happens.

 

When there was nothing but you and Lauren and the love you had for each other.

 

Even though Lauren’s parents have all but disowned her for failing to marry her childhood best friend, the sole heir to a partner company, Lauren had worked hard enough in college to secure a solid position at a business firm and coupled with her inheritance from her grandmother, who didn’t even bat an eye that Lauren decided not to follow her parents’ wishes, and your own stable position that you had gotten at a bioengineering company, you and Lauren weren’t doing too badly.

 

You’d spent the first year out of college crammed in a small but practical apartment and have only recently moved into your much more spacious (and expensive) apartment in central Manhattan before you both decided that you needed a break from the city.

 

You packed a couple bags and were well on your way to a beach somewhere, anywhere really, when you decided to take a break and load up on some snacks in a small town gas station somewhere in Pennsylvania.

 

It was your classic being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

You remember walking in the gas station store, Lauren’s arm carelessly slung around your shoulders, your face tucked in her neck as you both giggle about some stupid joke you had said and it was only moments later when a sudden commotion near the front of the store caused you both to look up. You remember Lauren instinctively stepping in front of you and bringing both her hands up in front of her when you both spot the cause of the commotion.

 

There was a man – a boy really – he was young, much too young for _this_ \- he couldn’t have been over twenty and he looked absolutely terrified, sweat running down his features as he haphazardly waved a handgun in front of him, his hand shaking so much that you had been sure the gun was going to go off without his permission. His finger was precariously curled over the trigger, tense and stiff and you’ve never been so scared in your life.

 

Lauren stayed standing in front of you and you remember holding onto her arms from behind her, not really sure if you wanted to drag her out of the store or pull her back so she’s not directly in front of you but you don’t have time to decide because the boy’s eyes, wild and scared and _so_ vulnerable, land on the both of you.

 

Neither of you was wearing anything particularly flashy, just a couple loose tank tops and some ripped cut-offs, but it's not hard to stand out in a small town where everyone knows everybody. The boy took one look over you and you remember how you could almost see the gears turning in his head. You watched as he turned his head to look through the glass door and sure enough, standing out like a sore thumb is Lauren's shiny, black Mercedes and the boy immediately addressed the two of you, telling you to throw him the keys while the cashier was loading up his backpack with the cash from the register.

 

The next few moments seemed to happen in a blur and at the same time, the seconds felt like it dragged agonizingly slowly. You remember the sound of sirens ringing right outside the store just as Lauren was about to throw her keys and the flash of panic that crossed the boy’s eyes as he swiveled his head once more to look outside of the store, only to be met with several police cars crowding the front.

 

There was another customer that had taken the chance to tackle him to the ground while he was distracted and it’s like Lauren knew what was going to happen because she immediately turned towards you.

 

You remember her arms wrapping around you protectively as she tucked your face in her neck, her back turned towards the scuffle and you felt your heart stop at the sound of a gunshot going off.

 

You remember feeling frozen for a second before the arms wrapped around you loosened as Lauren slowly fell to the ground and you remember feeling like your heart was being slowly ripped from your chest with every second that Lauren lost her hold on you. You remember being down by her side in an instant. You remember watching in horror as the pool of blood around her head seemed to grow larger and larger and you can’t say you remember much of what happens after that.

 

It was a blur of countless police interviews, late nights at the hospital, memory lapses that got worse and worse with time and being filled with an overwhelming sense of helplessness about it all.

  

*****end tw*****

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**start of flashback**

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_You’re standing in the middle of a crowded airport holding onto Lauren’s hands as if they’re the only things keeping you grounded. Her grip on your fingers is firm but yielding all the same as she runs her thumb across your knuckles in a way that you know has come to be second nature for her._

_You’re toe to toe, her lips ghosting your forehead as you keep your eyes closed in hopes of keeping your tears in while you try to savor these last few moments. You know the last call for Lauren’s flight to London is coming any second and you’re finding it hard to let go because something about all of this seems like more than just a temporary goodbye._

_There isn’t a definite date of when Lauren is supposed to come back and you can’t help the heavy weight on your chest, this lingering feeling – a sort of dull ache that’s permeating over every inch of your chest, seeping in through the spaces in between your ribs and clutching around your heart – this feeling that you’re about to lose a piece of yourself and you don’t know how you can get it back - if you’ll ever get it back._

_“It’s going to be okay, baby.” Lauren’s voice pulls you out of the depths of your mind, her voice soft and gentle as it washes over you and you feel a bit of tension leave your body._

_“Promise me you’ll come back to me.”_

_She squeezes your hands tighter and you don’t miss the slight tremor in her breath as she tries to steady her voice._

_“Always. I’ll always come back to you, love.”_

_It hadn’t been bad at first. The bullet had lodged in a part of Lauren’s brain that didn’t seem to leave any major damage so the doctors had decided to keep it in as opposed to risking a surgery. That was, however, until Lauren started having memory lapses that had gotten progressively more severe over the last few weeks._

_When this was coupled with increased mood swings and the occasional seizure, they had started to consider surgery once again and it wasn’t long after Clara had found a willing surgeon in London that Lauren’s flight was booked before any of them really had any time to process what was going on._

_You take one last shaky breath as you pull your head back and you meet Lauren’s watery eyes and you know you’re probably mirroring the sadness that’s apparent in your favorite shade of green. You let go of her hands for a second to unfasten the handmade bracelet she had given you earlier in your relationship from your wrist and when she realizes what you’re doing, you lean in for a lingering kiss to silence her protest, pulling back with a sad smile as you take her hand back in yours, looping the bracelet delicately around her wrist and running your thumb across the back of her hand afterwards._

_“Camz,” she breathes out. “That’s yours now. I gave it to you.”_

_“I know, baby.” Your eyes are fixed on the bracelet for a few moments before you look up to see her watching you ever so patiently. She’s always known just how to read you, when to give you space, when to push and when to back down. Even now, when you know she’s confused, she’s giving you the time you both know you don’t have to gather yourself. “I’m just asking you to hold onto it for me, okay?”_

_You hold her gaze for a few long seconds before understanding crosses her features and you can almost see the exact moment when she tries her hardest not to fall apart right there and then. This is already hard enough for the both of you as it is and she nods her head in the slightest, eyes blinking fast in a last ditch effort to prevent her tears from cascading down her cheeks._

_“You can return it when you get back to me, okay?”_

_“Okay,” is all she says as she watches you run your fingers along the faded band. It’s worn and old and has definitely gone through more than it deserves, but it’s resilient and has proven itself through the test of time and you can’t think of anything else that symbolizes your love for each other quite as well._

_The overhead announcement for the last call on Lauren's flight rings loudly in your ears and you bring your hands up to gently cradle her face, her tears finally falling down her pale cheeks and you muster a smile as you try to be strong for the both of you. You map her features with your fingers, gently tracing the contours of her face as if trying to embed in your mind as much of her as possible because as much as you don’t want to think about it, something about this moment feels like the last of things._

_Her eyes are sad and her lips tremble under your touch and you don’t know how someone can make pain and absolute anguish look so beautiful._

_"I'll be here when you get back. I love you so much, Laur," you say through a watery smile, gently running your thumb across her cheeks and softly wiping away the tears that slope down her smooth skin._

_“I love you, too, Camz,” she mumbles the words against the side of your head as she pulls you back in for a hug, wrapping her arms around your body and for a second, the rest of the world disappears and it’s just you and Lauren, wrapped up in one another and basking in your love for each other._

 

 

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**end of flashback**

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

 

  

 

That was the last time you heard her say those words to you and you wish you'd held on a little longer, a little tighter, paid attention just a little bit more. You think you're willing to trade years of your life for a few more seconds of that moment. The moment right before you lost half of yourself.

 

You shake the thoughts out of your head because you know this is a dangerous path to be on. You never quite know when to stop the onslaught of memories once you get it started so you’re hoping to put an end to it for the night before it’s too late and it consumes you completely.

 

The peace is temporary as you feel your phone vibrate in your hand and you roll your eyes at the thought of Dinah worrying again when you see a name flash across the screen that you weren’t expecting and your breath gets caught in your throat.

 

_Lauren._

 

You gather yourself just in time to answer it before it goes to voicemail and you wonder briefly how you can even hear anything over the pounding in your ears.

 

“Hello?” You chance a glance at the clock above your fireplace and see that it’s almost eleven and there’s a passing thought of why Lauren could be calling you at this hour when you haven’t really talked since the wedding last weekend.

 

“Hi. Camila?” There’s something about her voice that has you leaning in closer to your phone, hanging on to every word that she says.

 

“Hey. Is everything alright?”

 

“Yeah, no. I mean yeah – I mean, - sorry,” she sighs out and you can almost picture her running her fingers through her hair in frustration, undoubtedly making it even messier. “It’s just that – I didn’t really know who else to call. I’m sorry. And you can totally tell me if I’m overstepping or whatever-”

 

“Laur,” you say as gently as you can. “It’s fine. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

 

You wait for her to speak again and when she does, all you could think of is that you didn’t think it was possible for your heart to beat even louder in your ears.

 

“Okay, yeah.” You hear her swallow hard before continuing. “Mom and I had a fight and I packed a bag and stormed out and I just didn’t know where to go.” Her voice is small towards the end and there’s a few beats of silence when you’re not really sure what’s going on before you decide to get your head on straight and fully process what she’s really trying to say.

 

“Where are you now? Do you need a place to stay? Do you need me to pick you up from somewhere?” You don’t even realize you’ve gotten up and gathered your things and are just about ready to go when her voice makes you pause even just for a moment.

 

“No, no, you don’t need to pick me up. But um – I do need a place a stay. Even if it’s just for the night. I - I just really didn’t know who else to –”

 

“Of course. Yeah,” you clear your throat in hopes of clearing the lump in your throat. “Are you sure you don’t need me to pick you up?”

 

“No, I’m good. Really.” And you can hear the smile in her voice and you feel a bit disoriented because you’re talking to Lauren on the phone like you’ve always done and yet you know it’s different. “Just give me your address and I should be able to make it there.”

“Yeah, sure. My building’s just off of the corner of Main Row and Atlantic Boulevard by-”

 

“Wait.” A pause. “Riverhouse Heights?”

 

A beat of silence followed by, “Hello? Camila? You still there?”

 

"Yeah yeah," you answer slowly, trying to remember if you ever mentioned to Lauren where you live. "Yeah, that's right."

 

“Oh.” You don’t know how to explain it but you can almost sense the gears turning in Lauren’s head. You can imagine her brows furrowing in the way they do whenever she’s trying to figure something out. “That’s weird,” and she lets out a small chuckle but you don’t know what to make of it. “When I walked out of my mom’s house, I was so mad, I literally got in my car and just started driving and I didn’t even really know where I was going and I ended up in this café and,” you can picture her looking around as if to confirm where she is. “And I think I’m right around the corner from you.”

 

_The Busy Bean_

 

It’s the café you and Lauren used to go to all the time partly to satiate Lauren’s caffeine addiction and partly to satiate your own sugar obsession. Lauren swears by their café con leche and you’re not exaggerating when you say you’d seriously consider committing a crime for their strawberry-graham scones.

 

You’re barely able to hold yourself up with all the possibilities swirling in your head so you lean against the arm of your couch before answering. “Yeah, I think I know what you’re talking about. Just head over and I’ll let security know you’re coming. Room 1727.”

 

“Alright. Thanks again, Camila. I really appreciate it.”

 

“No problem.”

 

“See you soon.”

 

 

 

When Lauren appears at your door not even twenty minutes later with a duffel bag haphazardly thrown over her shoulder, dark bags under her eyes and hair a mess, you’re almost jealous of how well she pulls off the whole bum look if you weren’t so completely enamored by her.

 

You also can’t help but be relieved that you’d decided to put away anything, well as much as you could anyway, that reminded you of Lauren when you decided you were going to try to move on – your photos together, some of the pieces you picked together to decorate the walls, even the one or two paintings that she’d done for your place. You figure the apartment in itself – the space that you shared with her even just for a short amount of time was enough of a reminder of what you’ve lost.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hi,” there’s a small smile on her face and it ignites the budding hope in your chest. Her smile is tired but just as dismantling as ever and you’re coming to learn that you’re probably never going to get your heart back from her. She’s taken it for herself and you’re just going to have to learn to live with the gaping hole in your chest, but you don’t think you mind when you can fill it with memories of moments like these, when Lauren is looking at you like nothing has changed.

 

She takes a pensive look around the place and you have to actively think about not pulling her into your arms as she observes with curious eyes. Her gaze lands back on you and there’s a hint of a question in her eyes; she’s looking at you as if you have the answer before she seems to come back to her senses and shakes her head subtly.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Y-yeah, I’m just – ” she scrunches her brows up and seems to think about what she’s going to say before she meets your eyes again and decides to go for it. “This place just seems familiar, is all.”

 

You try your best to seem unphased and you quickly look away at the pretense of looking around the apartment instead, but before you can come up with a poor excuse, she shakes her head once more and lets out a small chuckle. “Don’t mind me. It’s been a long day; I’m probably just seeing things.”

 

Seeing Lauren back in your apartment, the one you spent countless hours trying to decide on together, is jarring and you have to keep reminding yourself to really not get your hopes up too much.

 

But when you see Lauren timidly sit on your couch, you can’t help but picture the many times you’ve cuddled up to her during the nights when you’d both rather pass out together than get dressed up and go out, her hand softly running up and down your side, her mere presence and warmth lulling you to sleep while you watch twelve-year-olds try to make crème brulees with 30 seconds left on the clock.

 

When she walks into your kitchen to get a glass of water, you can’t help but remember how she cooked for you almost every night, despite being exhausted from her own job, she always made sure that she had some home-cooked meal for you because apparently, _The courting never stops, Camzi._ You remember how you always made sure to kiss your thanks against her gasping mouth, dot it across her hot skin and against the heat at the junction of her thighs.

 

After settling your sleeping arrangements for the night (you had to fight the urge to blatantly ask Lauren to join you in your bed), you find yourself wide awake and staring at the ceiling of your room knowing that Lauren is sleeping on your couch (you spent about twenty minutes trying to convince her to take your bed instead but she’s as stubborn as you remember).

 

You’d called Clara earlier and let her know that Lauren is staying with you because despite whatever messy history you might have with her, you can’t even begin to imagine how anxious she must be, knowing her daughter with amnesia has gone out in the middle of the night in New York city after not having lived in it in years.

 

You’d half expected her to be mad at you and fight the whole thing and surely she’d accuse you of breaking your agreement about not telling Lauren anything, but to your surprise, she didn’t have a hint of protest in her voice when you’d informed her that Lauren had called you for help. And if your head wasn’t so consumed about figuring out how to deal with Lauren in your apartment, you would’ve spent a second to think about how she almost sounded _relieved_ that Lauren was with you.

 

You toss and turn throughout the night and doze off every once in a while, but you never quite fall in a deep enough sleep, so when you wake up for the tenth time and turn your head to look at the bright numbers on your bedside alarm telling you it's six in the morning, you sigh resignedly as you get out of bed and wash up in your en-suite knowing full well that you're most likely not gonna get any more sleep.

 

You pad your way into your kitchen and it’s like you’ve taken a step back into the past because there’s Lauren, clad in a long sleep shirt and small shorts, hair mussed and eyes light under the morning light shining through your windows making coffee like she always used to do. And because it’s only six in the morning and the world is always ready to knock you off your feet, you hear Lauren humming to a familiar Elvis classic.

 

_Wise men say,_

_Only fools rush in_

You will yourself not to cry because it’s too early and really, how are you supposed to explain why you’re crying when you’ve barely woken up. It’s taking all of your willpower not to close your eyes, not to get lost in the memories of Lauren whisking you away in an impromptu dance in the middle of your kitchen, sleep-dusted eyes sparkling with unadulterated happiness as she twirls the both of you while lively singing to the tune of _Can’t Help Falling in Love_ through easy smiles and light laughter.

 

For the millionth time since you’ve seen her again, you find yourself hanging on to that precariously thin thread of hope that your story might not be over just yet.

 

You make your presence known and Lauren gives you one of her smiles that always manages to throw you just a bit off your orbit, but there’s something different about it. Lauren’s always been the type of person that conveyed a quiet sense of strength; she’s always exuded an aura that was commanding but wasn’t imposing and it gave her a mysterious air, but it’s something you’ve grown to admire over the years.

 

But the smile she’s giving you right now, and the look that goes with it, is disarming in a new way. She’s looking at you like she’s trying to figure something out or she’s on the last piece of a puzzle and you’re not quite sure what to make of it.

 

“Hey, good morning,” she rasps out. “Coffee?” She offers you a cup and you realize she was making two cups this whole time.

 

“Yeah, sure.” You take a sip and brace yourself to pretend to like it because you know you take your coffee a certain way (there’s a very specific and well-tested ratio of coffee to milk to sugar that you can stand) and there’s only one other person who really knows how to make it [see: pre-amnesia Lauren] and you really don’t want to hurt Lauren’s feelings.

 

Your immediate, premeditated response comes to a screeching halt at the tip of your tongue when you get a taste of the coffee because it tastes _exactly_ like how you like it. You continue to drink it if only to prevent yourself from blurting out something stupid like, _How do you still know how to make my coffee_ , and you see Lauren watching you from over the brim of her cup as she takes a sip of her own coffee. If you weren’t so focused on trying to stay composed, you might have taken another second to over-analyze the expression on her face -  and the way she looks as if she’s almost waiting for a reaction from you.

 

But that’s crazy, right? There’s no way she remembers.

 

She would have told you. But then again, you've not exactly been honest with her. You wonder if this is how it's always going to be between the two of you – constantly tiptoeing around one another as the truth weighs heavy on your shoulders, always threatening to bring you to the breaking point, but never having enough for you to fall over the edge.

 

“Good?” She asks you after a few moments of the two of you just silently drinking.

 

“Y-yeah,” you get out with a hard swallow.

 

“Do you mind if you take a walk with me after breakfast, just around here – ” she starts to say before she realizes something. “Oh unless you have something to today, I didn’t even think to ask-”

 

“No, yeah it’s fine,” you reassure her.

 

“You sure? I don’t wanna impose.”

 

“Of course, and no, you’re not imposing. It’s really okay.”

 

She gives you a small smile and you try to calm the beating of your heart at the way she looks at you.

 

“I’m sorry for crashing, by the way. Waking you up in the middle of the night probably wasn’t ideal.”

 

“Hey, it’s alright,” you say sincerely and you wait for her to look at you before continuing. “I’m here – _we’re_ all here to help you in any way we can.”

 

“Thank you, Camila. Really, you’ve been great.”

 

You try not to let the bitterness of the truth on the tip of your tongue show on your face.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

Everything was going so well.

 

Really, you didn’t think anything could go wrong with you and Lauren just walking around the park near your apartment. It was peaceful, you were having light conversation, you could almost feel like you were back to two years ago and there was just the two of you.

 

“Camila!”

 

Your heart stops and the breath gets caught in the back of your throat because you _know_ that voice. You throw Lauren a quick panicked look while she gives you a confused one in return before you brace yourself for the inevitable.

 

“Hey, Camila. How are you?” You turn around and give Lucy a pained smile as she goes in for a hug and you don’t miss the way Lauren’s eyebrow rises in the slightest bit, her lips curling in a tight-lipped smile as she subtly clenches her jaw.

 

You guess that some things never change.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**start of flashback**

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

_You walk into your apartment after a long day of going around New York to the smell of your favorite food permeating the place: fricase de pollo._

_“Honeeeey, I’m home!” You say cheerily as you drop your keys by the front door and head straight to the kitchen where you know the best girlfriend in the universe is making you the best dish ever._

_“Hey,” she says curtly while barely looking up before going back to cutting vegetables. You quirk an eyebrow up and try to hide your smile as you approach her because you can already tell what this is about._

_You stand by her side and lean your elbows on the counter while you turn to watch her side profile as she tries to focus on her task. “Don’t I get a kiss?”_

_She rolls her eyes but leans in for a brief kiss dutifully and you can’t help but smile into it._

_“You know, I’m not sure what those veggies ever did to you, but you’re cutting them up pretty harshly. You don’t wanna break your ultra-expensive chopping board now do you?”_

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says through clenched teeth as she gathers the ingredients and seasonings, slowly mixing them into the pot before leaning back on the counter and crossing her arms, still petulantly refusing to meet your eyes._

_“Whatcha cooking?”_

_“Your favorite.”_

_“That’s sweet of you.”_

_“Don’t you forget it.”_

_You decide you’ve had enough and approach her to stand in her space, slowly uncrossing her arms and placing them on your waist as you fold your own around her neck. “Lauren.”_

_“What?”_

_You smile once more before taking a hand to cradle her face and gently turn it so she’s facing you. “I love you.”_

_Her eyes turn soft and she sighs out, the tension leaving her body in waves as you give her a sincere smile, her arms tightening around your body as she leans down to tuck her face in the crook of your neck, mumbling against your skin. “I know. I love you, too.”_

_“I asked you to come with us, you know.”_

_“And I would have! But I really couldn’t get out of my meetings, today,” she says as she pulls back to face you, pout in full force._

_“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”_

_“Wha – what. I’m not jealous. Psh.”_

_“Yeah, that was very convincing,” you continue to tease her while she just continues to pout._

_Lucy was going to be in town for the next couple of days and you’d both immediately made plans to catch up when you found out, which is why you spent the day showing her around the city._

_She’s an important part of your life, even if she lives across the country now. She was your first real relationship, your first real girlfriend and even though it didn’t work out because you went to universities that were on opposite sides of the country, you remained very good friends. She’d helped you come to terms with your sexuality while you struggled to understand who you were supposed to be in high school and for that, you’ll always be grateful._

_“It’s hard not to be jealous when your girlfriend is out all day with her ex, you know?” Lauren huffs and you’re brought back to your pouty girlfriend once more._

_“You know you have nothing to be worried about, right?”_

_“Yeah well, you did say she was your ‘sexual awakening,’” she punctuates her words with exaggerated air quotes and a poor imitation of your voice before bringing her hands back to your waist._

_“Lauren!”_

_“What?” she asks, almost seriously. “Besides, she’s accomplished, gorgeous, and- ”_

_“Wow, babe. You sure I don’t have anything to worry about?”_

_“Please, no one has anything on you.”_

_You will the blush you feel creeping up your neck before replying. “You realize you’re all of those things too, right? Besides, yes, Lucy is important to me, but nothing can even compare to how I feel about you and what you mean to me,” you answer seriously and you see nothing but pure adoration in your favorite eyes before Lauren leans in and gives you a soft kiss._

_“Okayyy, fine,” she huffs playfully._

_“Besides, I don’t make a big deal when we run into one of your previous harlots every other day.”_

_All she gives you is a raised eyebrow and a barely-concealed smirk._

_“Okay, maybe I get a little jealous – okay, a lot jealous,” you amend and she lets out a laugh, carefree and light and everything that you’ll ever need. “They’re everywhere, Laur. It’s almost like they seek you out!”_

_“Oh come on, you have all of my heart, love,” she says sincerely and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how effortlessly she can switch from being silly to absolutely serious – how easily she can sweep you off her feet with her staggering sincerity, like she’s never known how to do anything else but love you truly and wholeheartedly._

_“And you have mine,” you whisper against her lips before leaning in to kiss her._

 

 

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**end of flashback**

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

“I’ve been good, you?” You answer while trying to figure out how you can whisk Lauren away from this situation. You love Lucy, you really do, but you could really do away with her right now.

 

She’s not exactly privy to the whole situation. She knows about the incident and the initial troubles it had given Lauren (you figure pretty much everyone and their momma probably knows), but you haven’t really let very many people know about the aftermath. About how she had to move away for a surgery that essentially erased all of her memory of you.

 

“Good! I’ve actually been recently relocated to Boston and I’m back and forth between here and there for the next few months.”

 

“That’s good, yeah, um – ” before you can continue to stall, however, Lucy’s eyes find Lauren’s and you wonder about the consequences of just dragging Lauren away and never looking back.

 

“How are you, Lauren? I’m glad to see you’re doing okay.”

 

“I’m good,” Lauren answers while subtly looking back between you and Lucy, as if asking how well she’s supposed to know this girl.

 

“I still can’t believe what happened to you guys,” Lucy barrels through. “Like, that’s crazy to think about.” She gives you both a sincere smile before continuing. “But I’m really happy to see you got through it all okay.”

 

“Yeah – um actually,”

 

“I mean, I think if anyone can get through something like that, it’d be the two of you, you know. You were _that_ couple,” she chuckles and you chance a glance at Lauren just as you see her breath hitch, eyes carefully studying Lucy, looking for any sign that she’s lying. “You were so in love with each other, it was truly nauseating,” she says with a laugh.

 

  

\--

  

 

The walk back to your apartment is as awkward as it is tense – the reality of what just happened weighing heavy around you and you’re almost relieved to reach your place if only for the fact that you can finally create some space between you and Lauren.

 

Your heart is in your throat and the atmosphere is suffocating as you stand on opposite sides of your living room, Lauren looking pensive before she looks up and you see nothing but pain in her eyes.

 

They fill with unshed tears and you have to work hard to choke back your own tears.

 

“So, did you have plans of telling me at all?” Her voice is rough and is filled with emotions that you know are there because of you.

 

“Lauren – I – I can explain,” you manage to get out through the lump building in your throat. You can hardly breathe, but you can feel Lauren slipping from you for good for the second time in this lifetime and you don’t know if you can survive it all over again.

 

When you can’t come up with anything, she gives you a sad smile and it pierces through your being – seeing Lauren in pain, it crashes like a train against your chest.

 

“I asked my mom if I’ve ever been in a serious relationship when we first got back to New York, and she said no. No hesitation on her part. But then,” she takes a deep breath to meet your eyes again and there’s a flurry of emotions in her bright green eyes. “But then, I saw you that first day in Hawaii and I had this unbelievable urge to go up to you and hug you." There's an ache in her eyes that lets you see for the first time just how affected she's been about all of this.

 

“I didn’t know what to think of it. I had to hold onto my chair because if I didn’t, I’m sure I would’ve gotten up and kissed you right there.” It’s your turn for your breath to leave your lungs in a rush; hearing about how she felt the same things as you, even if she couldn’t understand why, was causing a pandemonium of emotions in your chest.

 

“This pull kept happening – like I was unbelievably drawn to you, beyond anything I could understand, and I didn’t know what to do and I somehow ended up here,” she looks around the place in the same way she did yesterday.

 

Just when you thought your heart couldn’t possibly take much more, she continues.

 

“And I also found this in my stuff,” her voice is soft and it cracks in the end as she pulls out something from her pocket and you finally let out a quiet sob as she looks up, tears streaming down her own face.

 

She’s holding out a ring.

 

You’ve envisioned this moment so many times before, you never thought it’d happen at a time when both your hearts are shattered on the ground. “There’s an engraving on the inside,” she musters up a soft smile, it’s full of heartbreak and misery, but it’s still so, _so_ beautiful. So Lauren.

 

“LMJ & KCC.”

 

She turns to look at one of the frames on the wall and you follow her gaze. “Nice degree by the way,” she gestures to your diploma and you see your bioengineering degree displayed, where your full name is written out, Karla Camila Cabello Estrabao.

 

She approaches you and takes your hand in hers delicately and you’re reminded of just how much you actually miss this. Your hand in Lauren’s, her eyes on yours, your hearts beating so close to one another. She takes a deep breath and slides the ring in your finger carefully and you try your best not to fall apart. “Perfect fit,” she whispers before stepping back and you already miss her warmth.

 

“Lauren, I’m so sorry,” you say through relentless tears clouding your vision.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I didn’t – I didn’t know what it would do, what would happen and I’d only just gotten you back,” you say earnestly. “Even if it’s not in the same way as I would like, I didn’t want to lose you again.”

 

“Is it because of mom?” And her words hit you right in the chest, your mind swimming with a million thoughts a mile a minute.

 

“Laur, wha- why-”

 

“Is it?” she asks again, her tone firm and steady.

 

“No,” you try to match her firmness in her voice. “I made the decision not to tell you.”

 

“Why?” The vulnerability is back in her voice.

 

You take a deep breath before you look into her eyes so she knows you mean nothing but the truth.

 

“You didn’t remember me, Laur. And – and when we were together, fighting with your mom always took a toll on you. I _knew_ just how much it hurt you to be on bad terms with her, even though you tried your best to hide it. You chose me and as much as I love you for that,” you give her a watery smile, “It hurt me that I took you away from your mom. And when I found out that you didn’t remember anything about us,” you steady your voice as much as you can, but you can’t help when your voice cracks under the weight of all the emotion you’ve buried for years and are finally pouring out of you. “I figured it was time to give you back.”

 

She looks at you for several tense moments, her eyes piercing right through you before she breaks the silence. "So you really were _never_ going to tell me.” She shakes her head and lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “I was willing to marry a girl that isn’t willing to fight for me.”

 

“Laure-”

 

“Goodbye, Camila.” And with that, she walks out the door and you wonder how much more of this pain you’d be able to handle.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

You’re fiddling with your fingers in front of you, your cup of coffee untouched and you can’t decide if you want to escape or finally just get this over with.

 

Clara Jauregui is sat across from you, her fingers curled around her own mug of coffee as she watches you with steady eyes, her posture regal and her whole aura seemingly untouchable. That much hasn’t changed a single bit. But there’s also something different about her. There’s a subtle undertone of sadness in her eyes and a softness in her presence that you’d never have associated with her two years ago.

 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Camila.” Her voice brings your attention back to her and you finally gather enough courage to look her in the eye, her gaze is nothing but calm and reassuring.

 

“Of course.”

 

She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry.”

 

You have to take a few moments to process that Clara Jauregui is asking for your forgiveness because you’d never have expected anything of the sort from the Clara you thought you’ve always known.

 

She lets out a small chuckle and you can’t help it when it reminds you of Lauren, how it’s light yet unrestrained. “You don’t have to look so surprised.”

 

“I’m – I’m sorry, I was just-”

 

“Shocked. I know,” she gives a small smile before turning serious once more. “I’m sorry for a lot of things, for treating you the way I did, for never respecting your relationship with Lauren. There aren’t enough apologies in the world for how cruel I’ve been to you and that’s something I will always regret – not realizing how happy you made Lauren.”

 

“Mrs. Jauregui, it’s okay. I-”

 

“No, let me continue, please,” she interrupts gently, and you never thought you’d see Clara with so much vulnerability. She’s a lot like Lauren. They exude confidence and power, but when they let their guard down, they let it all the way down, baring their souls openly and holding nothing back, their hearts on their sleeves for anyone who dares to pay attention.

 

“I never disapproved of you for Lauren because you’re a girl, or because you don’t run in the same circle as our family,” and almost as if she can tell you’re internally rolling your eyes, she adds, “Although if she had ended up with Luis, I admit it would’ve been most beneficial to both our companies,” and you can’t help but share a smile.

 

“I’m not new to the kind of love you girls have. The kind that’s overwhelming and all-encompassing and the kind that makes you feel like you can take on the world,” she continues softly, a hint of reminiscence in her voice. You have a feeling she’s not exactly talking about her husband. The very few times you’ve met Mike, he’d always seemed too serious, his mind always on their business empire and you don’t remember ever seeing him being very affectionate with either Lauren or Clara.

 

“I fell in love with a man in my early twenties. He was a musician. Ambitious. Charming. Rugged kind of handsome. You know the type that baits and breaks hearts. And we almost eloped,” she shakes her head at the idea, as if she still couldn’t believe she had been willing to do that at one point in her life. “I was ready to leave everything for him. My family. Our business,” she sighs out sadly. “Except when we were ready to run away together, I found myself sitting on some dock for hours through the night and morning, waiting for someone who I’d never see again.”

 

You watch her and there isn’t much pain or regret in her eyes, just understanding and growth. As if she’d come to terms a long time ago just how cruel the world can be. “I was heartbroken. I cried myself to sleep for weeks, wallowed in self-pity, and didn’t talk to anyone for a very long time.”

 

She looks up at you and you see that familiar mask of steel, like nothing can get to her unless she lets it. "Then I got back up and learned from my mistakes. I learned not to trust anyone and I convinced myself that love is nothing but weakness."

 

“Mike was more or less an arranged marriage. We needed each other in a lot of ways and our businesses grew with one another’s help. I learned to love him eventually, but it was a love out of convenience.”

 

Her eyes turn gentle and her lips curve in a soft smile before she continues. "And I was so wrapped up in my pain and my past mistakes that I projected them onto Lauren." There's a barely-there crack in her voice, a rare sign of vulnerability as she swallows hard. "I was sure that Lauren didn't know what she was getting into. I'd been there after all," she says with a small chuckle. "It wasn't until you were separated that I saw the difference. The light in her eyes, whenever she was with you, disappeared with her memory of you. And when she saw you again – it was like a switch. I got back my Lauren and it was all because of you and I'm _so_ sorry, Camila,” she sobs out quietly.

 

You don’t realize you’re crying too until your vision clouds with tears and you reach out to hold her hand in comfort, which she accepts gratefully. “It’s okay,” you say sincerely.

 

“Please don’t give up on her,” she pleads and you can’t help but let her words sink deep into your chest. “I already told her my part in all of this but she’s being stubborn. She needs you so please, don’t let her stubbornness get to you.” You share a light laugh at that because you both know just how hardheaded Lauren can actually be.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

You probably should’ve had some alcohol before you went through with this.

 

But you’ve never been a really good planner so much like the rest of your life, you’re winging this whole trying-to-get-Lauren-to-forgive-you-for-not-telling-her-you-were-once-in-love thing and are hoping for the best.

 

You don’t have a speech – well, not one that you think could really convince her well enough to take you back, much less forgive you for keeping from her one of the most important aspects of her past – that being, you. Truth be told, you don’t have much on your side but blind trust in what Lauren _can_ remember of your past with her and Clara’s words of encouragement sitting in the back of your head, which, you’re still not completely sure actually happened.

 

It’s almost nine at night and you’re pacing the lobby of Jauregui Exports as you wait for Lauren to finally leave her office, which you’ve learned from her mother (yeah, you guys are like, best friends now) is where she’s cooped herself up in the last few days. You hope she’s had enough time to process the new things she’s found out and is willing to actually even talk to you.

 

You can’t help but be brought back to the many times you’ve had to do some grand gesture or wait for her after some event at odd hours of the night just to apologize – you tended to mess up a lot in your relationship, but through every single one, Lauren had always forgiven you – had always understood that behind every mistake you made was an underlying fear on your part that everything was too good to be true and you were always looking for something to go wrong because you had a hard time believing Lauren was actually real.

 

But through it all, she was nothing but patient and understanding and she worked with you slowly but surely, talking with you about your fears, reassuring you in whatever way she can – in the way she looked at you, the way she touched you, the way she became everything you needed – the way she simply _loved_ you until you could do nothing but truly believe her. You made less and less mistakes over the years and you learned to trust her and her love for you and since then, you’ve been trying to show her that you love her just as much.

 

You don’t think you’ll ever catch up.

 

“Camila!” Your attention is brought back to the receptionist whisper-yelling your name and not so subtly using her head to point towards the elevator where Lauren has just come out. You look back at her in silent thanks and she gives you an enthusiastic two thumbs up in return.

 

You wait for Lauren to see you and when she finally does, you can see the surprise in her eyes and whatever little plan or disorganized speech you might have had flows out the window because she still steals your breath away just as easily as she always has.

 

“Camila,” she breathes out and the way her lips wrap around the letters of your name, the unmistakable tone of longing that laces her voice, it’s almost all too much for you and you’re reminded that Lauren will always have all of you – every single broken piece, rough edges and all, no matter if she remembers or not. “What are you doing here?”

 

You blink away the thoughts running in your head to focus on your mission and you abruptly bring the flowers you’ve been holding onto for four hours forward, counting it as a victory when she takes them, albeit carefully and with a subtle quirk of her eyebrow.

 

“Those are for you. You know, your favorite kind or –” you pause for a second and scrunch up your face when you realize she might not actually know. “Or they _were_ your favorites before the whole – I mean, you probably forgot they were your favorite, just like you forgot about me,” you say with a nervous laugh. “It’s probably too soon for that joke but –”

 

“Camz,” she says with a small laugh and when you look like you’re about to pass out, she continues. “Mom has been helping me remember some stuff,” she explains. “But, slow down, you’re rambling.”

 

“Yeah okay, yeah.” You take a deep breath and do your best to meet her eyes, trying to convey as much sincerity as you can. You hope you can show her even a fraction of the love you have for her because you feel like your chest is overflowing with emotion you hardly know what to do with. “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing by not letting you know – I thought, _what’s the harm,_ you know? You were already dealing with too many things and I didn’t want to add on to that. I realized that was stupid and mostly, cowardly. Truth is, I was terrified.”

 

You take a few moments to compose yourself because you can feel the tears building behind your eyelids and the strain in your voice from trying not to cry is getting to be too much. “How you made me feel has always been _overwhelming_. I’ve never really known how to deal with how unconditionally and how _much_ you loved me and it took a long time for me to finally realize you were here to stay and I didn’t know if I could do it all over again without fearing that I could lose you in a blink of an eye. It’s terrifying to think that I have no real control over what could happen and so I chose the easier path.”

 

You take a few steps closer and keep her gaze as you continue. “If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that you’re worth all the fears I have to work through again. I’ll spend every waking moment trying to show you even a small portion of how you’ve always made me feel. Try to remind you why you loved me the first time around,” you say finally with a sad smile because you still don’t know the answer to that question.

 

She puts her bag and the flowers down on a nearby bench before coming back to stand in front of you and taking one of your hands gently in hers and looking up to meet your eyes. Her eyes are bright and full of emotion, the green in them having never looked more beautiful under the harsh fluorescent lights of the lobby as they do now, while they’re looking at yours as if you’re the only thing she’ll ever need.

 

“I was on my way to your place actually,” she says casually, smiling at the surprised look on your face. She runs a delicate finger along your wrist before using her other hand to take something from her jacket pocket.

 

It’s the bracelet.

 

The one you told her to keep until she gets back to you and you can’t help the tears from finally spilling out as you watch her loop it around your wrist before interlacing your fingers together and kissing your knuckles lightly, her eyes falling shut at the contact and you feel your universe slotting back into place, as if the world, which has been upside down since Lauren left you, is finally tilting back on its axis.

 

“I don’t remember too much,” she almost whispers when she meets your gaze again, her eyes vulnerable. “They’re more hazy than anything and they come in confusing bits and pieces with not a lot of details, but I do know one thing.”

 

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until Lauren brings a hand to softly cradle your face, her thumb gently grazing along your jaw and you feel the tension leave your body. “I don’t think I could’ve stayed away from you even if I tried. And trust me, I tried.”

 

“There’s a chaos in my head – a sort of constant disconnect between reality, my dreams, and the memories that come back and I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t at times.” There’s a clear strain in her voice, like she’s being slowly torn apart by all the information that is always running through her ever-racing mind. “But when I’m with you, everything – _all_ of it stops. You bring me a kind of peace of mind that helps me breathe. It reminds me that none of that ultimately matters. I want to be with you because even if my mind can’t remember, my heart knows to be in your hands.”

 

You can’t help but let out a watery laugh because you feel relief washing through your entire being. You can’t believe you get to have another chance with this amazing human being and you think that you’d go through the pain all over again if it meant still ending up with Lauren.

 

“You know, this is supposed to be _my_ grand gesture to get you back right?” You tease her because leave it up to Lauren to still outdo you in being a hopeless romantic, amnesia and all. “And you go and bring out the bracelet.”

 

She lets out a laugh, the kind that makes you fall deeper. The kind that serves as a constant reminder that Lauren has pitched a tent in your heart and camped out in your chest for good, not once giving you a chance to ever truly move on.

 

“I said I’d always come back to you, didn’t I?”

 

You’re overwhelmed with everything you’re feeling and you can’t help but bring your hands up to gently cradle her face while she immediately leans into your touch before you push forward and connect your lips.

 

You’re reminded of what it’s like to be alive again.

 

Kissing Lauren is everything you remember and all that you’ve missed in the past two years. It’s electrifying and sends a jolt through your being that jump-starts your heart back to life, as if it wasn’t really beating before this moment.

 

It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. It’s soft and urgent, familiar yet new – as if you’re both re-discovering one another again and you can’t get enough. Your _I love you_ spills into her mouth when she lets you in and you swallow the gasp that follows from you exploring her mouth. Your _I miss you_ flows from the tip of your fingers as they curl around the back of her neck, bringing her impossibly closer, through her and into her heart where you reclaim your rightful place.

 

When you finally pull back just enough to rest your forehead against hers, you’re breathing heavily and your heart is beating wildly, but your chest feels the lightest it’s ever been.

 

 

\--

 

 

 

It’s not easy.

 

Of course it isn’t. You’re trying to remind her of your past while she tries her best to remember, all while you’re both making new memories together.

 

You fight more often than you’d like, but you share the sentiment on never wanting to go to bed angry with one another so you resolve your problems one way or another.

 

You’re learning new things and re-learning old things – everything feels novel yet familiar and you wouldn’t rather have anyone else with you on this confusing journey.

 

 You discover that even though Lauren’s mind can’t explicitly remember a lot of things, the rest of her doesn’t have as much of a hard time in getting re-acquainted with anything to do with you. She’ll often find herself knowing just where to find you when you’re in one of your moods where you hide out from the rest of the world.

 

She can still read you better than you can understand yourself. She still knows how to ease your worries, how to pull a smile out of you even in your worst moments. How to explore your body and just what to do with her tongue to make your back bow off the bed while her name falls from your lips amidst broken breaths and whispered curses. She still knows what makes you happy and how to keep the things that make you sad as far away as possible. She still pays attention like you’re the center of her universe and you’ve resigned to the fact that you’re never really going to fully understand what you did to receive such pure and unadulterated love.

 

She still knows how to love you just right and you hope you’re doing half a good job as she is and you figure you’re not doing too bad when she looks at you the way that she does.

 

So you argue and you fight. But you also forgive and make up. You push and you pull because she’s stubborn and you’ve always known just how to match that hardheadedness.

 

You know each other too well to hide anything from one another.

 

You’re still a master at wearing your heart on your sleeve and she’s still the only one that knows how to handle it with utmost care.

 

You won’t ever escape the fact that there are parts of your past that she’ll never remember – things that only you will know – and you find that you’re okay with that because you’ve got her heart as much as she has yours.

 

Because you know you have something that some people can only dream about and no matter what happens, you think you’re lucky you got a second chance at a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.

 

 

 

\--

 

The End.

 

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n:
> 
>  
> 
> im back! (for now) and barely alive bc my flight back home has been delayed over several days now, but it actually finally gave me the time to finish this so, silver lining and all that i guess
> 
>  
> 
> sorry for disappearing. been rly busy and still rly busy, but i am trying to write when i can
> 
>  
> 
> hold over my heart should be next, but whomst can rly tell [i have a one-shot i started on a whim, and i rly am a one-shot hoe at heart]
> 
>  
> 
> as always, i’d love to hear what y’all think
> 
>  
> 
> feel free to leave a vote/comment/feedback if ya feel like it! 
> 
>  
> 
> hope y’all are doing well
> 
>  
> 
> -madds (wattpad: jaureguicabello5eva)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> hi everyone! im back from my unannounced/unexpected hiatus (unlike 5h)
> 
>  
> 
> hope y’all are doing well
> 
> sorry if y’all were expecting a homh update. I prolly will try to finish this two-shot (maybe three-shot) before I work on the next ch for homh
> 
>  
> 
> as always, I’d love to hear what y’all think so far
> 
> feel free to leave a vote/comment/feedback if ya feel like it!
> 
>  
> 
> -madds (wattpad: jaureguicabello5eva)


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